Blackmail
by NS- Leclair
Summary: Draco discovers Harry's secret and blackmail ensues but with a twist.
1. Caught in the Act

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, none of it's mine.

**Rating:** NC-17 for future chapters; PG for this chapter.

**A/N:** I've been constantly reading HD slash for ever and I've become increasingly frustrated with the teeming amount of fanfic that's out there about Harry dressed in leather, mesh, and wearing make-up while he slashes his wrists and Draco being a whiny wimp who just takes it. Personally, these just don't do it for me though they are entertaining to read every once and a while. As a result, I'm finally writing what I want to read. Hopefully you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter One: Caught in the Act**

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron and Hermione excused themselves, mentioning something about going for a walk. Of course Harry wasn't stupid and he knew for a fact that their relationship had intensified over the summer, if catching Hermione in Ron's bed on more than one occasion was any indicator. So, 'going for a walk' actually meant that the only walking they would be doing was to somewhere private and secluded so they could snog each other's brains out.

Peering out the door, Harry made sure that no one was coming and closed the door shut quietly. He reached into his bag above where he had been sitting and pulled out a novel that he had found in the bookstore in Diagon Alley. He remembered the smirk that Seamus had given him when Harry had pleaded with him to buy it and a couple others for him. Seamus agreed without much persuasion, knowing that if Harry had bought them, his face would be plastered across the _Daily Prophet_, underneath a title that when something like, "Our Gay Savior – Harry Potter Caught Buying Gay Magazine." It wasn't a secret that Harry planned on keeping for much longer, since his hormones were becoming unbearable, but it wasn't something that Harry wanted the entire Wizard World to know about just yet either.

Flicking to the dog-eared page, Harry was immediately wrapped in the story of two sworn enemies, destined to be together. He smirked to himself as he briefly considered pulling out one of the two magazines that Seamus had insisted on Harry getting, but he didn't know when Ron and Hermione would be back. Getting caught wanking off on the _Hogwarts Express_ wasn't exactly on Harry's list of things to do. He was more than happy to read his fluffy romance novel and wondered what it would be like to do all the naughty things the author explicitly wrote about.

"So Saint Potter is a pillow-biter," Harry heard from the doorway.

Leaning casually against the door jam in his very own mastered eloquent way, was Draco Malfoy with his arms folded over his chest and a smirk playing at his thin lips. Harry immediately paled at the realization that he must have been so enthralled with his book that he hadn't even heard the door slide open.

"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Draco's predatory grin sent a shiver down Harry's spine because he knew exactly what the platinum blond was thinking at that moment: blackmail. Grey eyes watched his Adam 's apple bob down then back up and teeth worry his bottom lip.

"I'm flattered that my mere presence renders you speechless, Potter."

"It's not mine," Harry replied hastily, dropping the book beside him.

_Idiot_, Harry muttered. _Of course it's yours_.

"I found it."

"And it appears that you were enjoying your little find," Draco insinuated, his eyes traveling across the slight bulge in Harry's trousers.

"Malfoy –"

"Tut, tut, Potter. Can hear the millions of hearts breaking when all the girls discover that _the_ Harry Potter is a poof? This is absolutely delicious news, I must say. How did you manage to keep it to yourself for so long?"

"Please, don't–"

"Say anything? You're as stupid as I thought you were. How could I possibly keep this little morsel of information to myself? Do you realize how _big_ this is?"

"What do you want?" Harry muttered, defeated and gripping the edge of the bench for support. His knuckles were white at his attempt to keep from jumping up and punching Draco right between the eyes.

"I doubt there is anything in your possession that I do not already have," Draco grinned.

Silence enveloped the cabin while Harry waited for Draco to name is price because he knew that the Slytherin would use this leverage as much as possible before he even considered letting it leak to the public. When Harry glanced back up, his jaw tightened at the sight of Draco clutching the top of the doorframe, leaning into the cabin. Harry's eyes flickered across the patch of skin of the pale boy's stomach that his hiked-up sweater revealed. Next, his gaze roamed across Draco's lean biceps that were accentuated due to his undeniably strategic position. The Slytherin was trying to either intimidate him or arouse him. What ever he was trying to do, both were working.

"Though I'm sure I'll think of something."

Draco's arms dropped gracefully to his sides and stood firmly in the middle of the entrance, figuring that the Gryffindor had planned an escape plan in his head since he was so quiet.

"Name it, Malfoy."

"Maybe I'll just tell everyone instead. There isn't anything I want from you anyways."

Harry stood and decided that it was a great idea to get in the blond's face. Before the summer, Harry figured that Draco was a couple inches shorter than him, maybe even the same height. Now, as Harry gripped each side of the doorway on either side of Draco to keep his hands from making fists, Harry realized that Draco was easily a few inches taller than him. It appeared that the blond thought the same thing for his mouth twisted up at the side in amusement. Harry's green eyes followed the movement before meeting Draco's stare.

"Anything."

"Desperation isn't very becoming on you, Potter," he said softly, since the Gryffindor was mere inches from his face. "Though I must admit, hearing you beg is something I look forward to."

"Malfoy, what are you talking about?"

"In due time, _Harry_."

A sudden rush of cool air caressed his face when Draco quickly exited, somewhat gliding as he walked. Harry clutched the doorway tighter and growled, disappointed with himself that he had allowed Draco to dominate the situation and have the upper hand.

Turning back to find the discarded book waiting for him on the cushioned seat, Harry sighed and picked it up. He decided that it was time to put it back in his bag since it had already caused enough trouble for one day. As Harry sat back down, he thumped his head back against the wall, chiding himself again.

"Ugh, that prat gets more arrogant every year, I swear," said Ron, stepping into the train cabin.

"Ron, could you try to be civil?" asked Hermione, sitting down next to him and rubbing his thigh with her hand. "Harry, are you okay?"

"Yeah, a little tired, actually. Who were you talking about?"

"Just saw Malfoy a minute ago looking as smug as ever, if not more so. Did you see him, mate?"

"No, must have missed him."

"Good," announced Hermione. "The fewer the confrontations the better, I think. Maybe this year you and Malfoy could try being friends or at least acquaintances."

"Somehow, I doubt that very much," Harry scowled, picking at a loose thread on his trousers.

"If you have that attitude," she retorted, looking at Ron for some support.

"'Mione, Harry and Malfoy becoming friends would mean that Hell froze over."

"You don't even believe in Hell, Ron!"

"Well, then, if Harry and Malfoy become friends, I'll root a Hippogriff."

"Ron!"

Harry chuckled at Ron's crude words and listened to Hermione chastise his friend and inform him of all the reasons why he should take back what he had just said. Hermione looked indignant and Ron appeared like he couldn't have cared less. Harry, on the other hand, didn't know what he felt like. His mind was jumping back and forth, sending him conflicted messages. In one breath, Harry was frightened about what Malfoy would do or say, or make him do or say. And then Harry couldn't help but revel in the sight of Draco's exposed skin, fit body, and alluring eyes that had him panting like a dog in heat. Confused, Harry stared at the door and wondered what exactly Draco had up his sleeve.


	2. A Funny Kind of Feeling

**Disclaimer:** None of it is mine, unfortunately. I claim no rights, no ownership, and only dirty thoughts.

**Rating:** NC-17 in general; PG for this chapter.

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Funny Kind of Feeling**

After spending two months at the Burrow listening to Ron's insistent snoring and tolerating Ginny's pathetic attempts at flirting, Harry believed that he truly missed _everything_ about Hogwarts. Curfews and Potions were nothing compared to the torture that Harry endured at the hands of the one and only Ginny Weasley. Harry had tried to tell her covertly that he was not interested in the cleavage that she continuously shoved into his face or the thigh rubs under the dinner table. Each morning, Harry counted down the remaining days until he would be back in his dorm with Neville, Ron, Dean, and Seamus, and far, far away from Ginny.

Even though Ginny was the ultimate push factor, Harry realized there were a few things that he didn't miss about Hogwarts though he wasn't sure if they were worse than what he had endured throughout the summer. Wiping the blood off his bottom with the back of his hand and sitting up off the cold cobblestone hallway, Harry realized that he didn't miss the floor of Hogwarts and what it felt like to be tripped and sprawled across it.

"Better watch your step, Potter," came a voice behind him.

Two sets of laughter accompanied the sneer as Harry dusted off the front of robes. Looking over his shoulder as he stood, Harry watched the retreating forms of Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco Malfoy. Harry glanced down at the watch that he had snagged from Mr. Weasley's vast collection, and noted that he had only been in the castle for an hour and he had already managed to not only have a confrontation with Draco but also draw blood.

Thinking on this, Harry licked his split lip before sighing heavily and continuing on his way to Gryffindor Tower before dinner. He wondered how long Draco planned on keeping him anticipating his next move and knew instantly that the Slytherin wanted to make him suffer, worry, and cave. Harry shrugged to himself as he ascended the Tower's winding stairs and figured that he would let Draco have his fun for now. Before summer ended, Harry had sworn to himself that he would tell Hermione and Ron before Christmas so really the blond had nothing on him… unless Draco told Rita Skeeter. Then Harry would have trouble on his hands. Letting his friends know was one thing, but he couldn't bear to think what his professors would think of him let alone Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

As Harry stepped into the Gryffindor common room, he found his mates already waiting for him, sitting and laughing around the fire. Hermione was fully engaged in a game of Wizard's chest with Ron – and winning surprisingly – while Seamus displayed his new pair of pants to Neville that changed to what ever color or style he wished.

"Harry." Neville breathed, thankful for the sudden distraction.

Smiling, Harry knew how uncomfortable his friend must have felt having to stare at Seamus's behind for who knows how long. Not that Harry would have minded himself, but he knew that as much as Seamus could try, Neville wasn't turning homosexual any time soon.

"What happened to your lip?" Neville wondered, as he came closer to greet his friend with a hug.

Ron's interest, as well as Hermione's, was piqued and he stopped mid move to check to see what exactly Neville was talking about.

"Malfoy's way of saying 'hi,'" Harry replied, slipping his hands into his front jeans and shifting awkwardly. He waited for Hermione's reaction, which he knew would be coming any second.

"Harry Potter, you haven't even been here for an hour and you've already had a row with Draco? Are you two ever going to grow up? You know, as Head Boy you would think that Draco would set a better example," she ranted, catching a couple of second years' attention.

"It wasn't my fault. Honestly. He tripped me. I didn't even say anything to him."

"Maybe you should have greeted him, Harry. Some one has to be the better man some time."

Harry smiled at Dean's snort from the corner where he had stopped coming on to some third-year girl to listen to the sudden commotion in the middle of the room. He wasn't about to mention his previous encounter with Draco on the train and say that it was clear that he was the better man since Draco was about to blackmail him any minute now.

"Give it a rest, 'Mione," muttered Ron, who had finished making his move. "Check mate."

Suddenly turning on her heel and stomping over to the table where her boyfriend sat smugly. "And how did you manage that?"

Relieved, Harry sat down with Neville and Seamus, ignoring the fantastic way that Seamus's pants hugged his behind, and lost himself in the conversation. Before he knew it, it was dinner time and he was making his way down to the Great Hall for the feast with his friends.

_This _was what Harry had missed throughout the entire summer. Looking to his left, he watched as Ron nattered on about some new Quidditch gear that he had been begging his mom to get him for his birthday, who obviously refused. And on his right, Neville reassured Seamus that he did not 'look fat' in his new pants, as some first-year Slytherin pointed out. Being surrounded my friends was always a welcome distraction and when he was at the Burrow, he felt like he stuck out even though Ron and his brothers always tried to make him just another part of the family.

Harry broke out of his little musings when his stomach reminded him in one loud, audible groan that it was time to eat as soon as they stepped into the Great Hall and breathed in the savory aromas.

"Honestly, Potter, did the Weasels starve you over the summer?" remarked Draco.

Harry stopped and half turned with a bewildered look on his face to see the stoic façade of Draco Malfoy. _How did he hear that? _Harry wondered, clutching his stomach subconsciously.

"You do look more emaciated than usual, come to think of it," Draco continued, studying Harry's form closely, though he couldn't really make out much under the baggy clothing.

"Do you ever get sick of hearing yourself talk, Ferret Face?" asked Ron, shouldering his way in between Harry and Draco.

"Should have known you were too poor to feed our _Savior_, Weasel," sneered Draco, his eyes locked on Harry's over Ron's shoulder.

"Ron, let's go eat," muttered Harry.

Clasping Ron's shoulder tightly with his hand as a warning, Harry desperately needed to get them both away from the Slytherin. A chill had run up his spine and back down when Draco's gaze was critically analyzing his body, making Harry feel uncomfortable and suddenly underdressed. His stomach flopped while he tried to decide whether or not Draco's eyes were mercury or slate, maybe just plain silver. Regardless of their color, Harry was getting unnervingly distracted and he knew that Draco could see it.

"Better eat up, Weasley, while it's free," smirked Draco just before Harry dragged his fellow Gryffindor away.

Reluctantly, Ron allowed Harry to move him away from the temptation of knocking Draco's pretty white teeth out and towards the Gryffindor table where the food waited for them patiently.

As Harry sipped his pumpkin juice after Dumbledore's toast, his gaze traveled from the Hufflepuff table to the Slytherins and narrowed on the platinum blond young man who smirked at him deviously as he licked his lips. Harry shook his head at Draco's new method of taunting him and realized that it was going to be even harder to resist punching the Slytherin in the face if he continued to insult him and make lewd gestures, regardless of the impending blackmail.

"So, Harry, Potions first thing tomorrow?" asked Ron through a mouthful of what looked like potatoes, carrots, and maybe some pumpkin juice.

"Don't remind me," he replied, before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

"Harry," Hermione whispered into his ear. "Ginny keeps staring at you."

"And?"

"Well, do tell."

"There's nothing to tell." Harry shrugged, looking to Seamus for help to no avail. He was currently giving Neville his undivided attention who was blabbering on about something to do with his grandmother.

"Oy, what're you two talking about?"

"Ron, I know your mother taught you better manners than that," she chided instantly.

"Don't say any–"

"I was just asking Harry why –" Hermione paused abruptly when Harry kicked her not so gently underneath the table. "– Ginny keeps eyeing up Harry."

To say the least, it was enough for Ron to actually stop eating, put down his fork, and look up to find his younger sister staring dreamily at his best friend beside him. Ron unexpectedly banged his fist on the table, plates and glasses noisily complaining, and snapped Ginny out of her reverie. She found Harry, Ron, and Hermione staring at her questioningly and blushed profusely before she ducked her head and picked at her plate.

"Not anymore, she isn't," said Ron contently, returning to his dinner.

Hermione shook her head while Harry was glad that his mate didn't press the issue further while Hermione made it clear that their conversation was far from over with. Harry subconsciously worried the split in his bottom lip as mixed his potatoes and gravy together, the effect reminding him of mud.

"Harry, do let me heal that for you," Hermione insisted, drawing her wand and pointing it at Harry's mouth.

"It's not a big deal. It doesn't even hurt."

"But you look awful."

"I think it makes him look dangerous," piped up Seamus.

Harry rolled his eyes. He knew he could always count on the other young man to come in when he wasn't need and be nowhere in sight when he could actually be of some use. A blush crept into Harry's cheeks and he hung his head to hide it.

"I don't think that's the kind of look Harry is going for."

"You couldn't be further from the truth. One day he's beating the Dark Lord and the next day he's sporting a split lip. What's more dangerous than that?"

Hermione was about to correct Seamus when Snape cut her off just as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Miss Granger, as much as I would enjoy watching you disfigure Mr. Potter's face with what ever spell you were thinking of, I suggest you put that wand away before you cause some serious damage," drawled Professor Snape.

He had stopped gliding to the Hall's entrance when he noticed out of the corner of his eye Hermione with her wand poised at Harry's face.

"Yes, Professor."

With a whoosh of his robes, Snape retreated back to the entrance doors of the Great Hall.

"What a git," Ron stated, his mouth full of broccoli.

"That'll be twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley!" Snape bellowed, at the moment he pushed open the doors.

With his jaw dropped, Ron displayed the contents of his mouth for everyone to see at the same time that the Slytherin table burst into laughter, pointing at the Gryffindor table. Hermione shook her head at her boyfriend, disappointed that they had already had House Points taken away before they could even start accumulating them.

"This year isn't going to be any different then the last," Hermione sighed, holding her head in her hands.

"That's the spirit," Dean joked, clapping his friend on the back gently.

As much as Harry knew that Hermione was only taking about Ron and his utter lack of maturity as well as the continuing House rivalries, he couldn't help but feel that his friend was wrong. Yes, Ron would indefinitely be his same old self and Slytherin and Gryffindor were still going to be at each other's throats. Those things would never change, especially over the course of a few months. However, Harry couldn't suppress the feeling in his gut that was telling him that _something_ was going to be different this year. If only he knew what.


	3. Potions with the Slytherins

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Rating:** NC-17 for whole; PG for this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Potions with the Slytherins**

From the moment he stepped in the familiar classroom, Harry knew it had 'bad idea' written all, over it. For the first time in his years at Hogwarts, Harry's alarm clock had decided not to work that morning and not one in his dorm felt the need to wake him for breakfast. As a result, Harry slept in until the last possible second when his biological clock finally shouted for him to get up. Harry had had seven minutes to get ready and get down to the dungeons or incur the wrath of Snape.

The class went silent as Harry tried to slip in unnoticed. He stopped mid creep when his professor's voice sliced through the air like a knife.

"Mr. Potter, how kind of you to grace us with your divine presence this morning. I see you're starting off the year on the same note as you left off: detention. It seems that the cupboards weren't properly organized last time so let's see if you can manage to get it right."

"Yes, Professor," Harry murmured, adjusting his glasses.

"Find a seat somewhere," the professor growled before turning the class's attention to something on the blackboard.

To Harry's luck, the only available seat was at a table full of Slytherins and Draco Malfoy. His friends watched him with pity and mouthed their apologies, but he knew that neither was going to solve his problem. Sitting across from Draco and next to Pansy, Harry felt like he had immediately walked into a snake pit.

"What is it that you think you are doing, Potter?" sneered Malfoy.

"Finding a seat, Malfoy," he retorted, opening his book to the appropriate page before turning to face the front of the class, away from Draco.

"Not at this table, you aren't," Draco hissed back.

"Believe me, I don't want me here more than you do."

"There are plenty of seats elsewhere," he continued.

"Where?" wondered Harry, looking around.

"On the floor where you belong, you filthy Mudblood lover."

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, stopping his demonstration completely to look at his table when he heard the screech of chair against the floor.

"No, Professor."

"Then what is all that fuss in the corner?"

"Nothing, sir."

"See to it that it remains nothing," he growled.

Harry glared at Draco who was smirking triumphantly as Snape picked up his demonstration where he had left off. The rest of Snape's demonstration had gone off without a hitch with Draco surprisingly keeping quiet and to himself. When they were to pair up, Harry sighed quietly to himself until he felt a soft hand over top of his on the table.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll be your partner if you like," Pansy smiled softly.

"Parkinson, what did I tell you about getting close to Gryffindorks? Now we have to quarantine you."

"Draco, be nice," she replied, giving him a warning look. "Come on, Harry. Help me find these ingredients. I'm pants at finding anything in that dark storage room."

With a surprised look on his face, Harry allowed Pansy to drag him to the storage room by his wrist. Ron gave him a sympathetic look while Hermione looked pleased that Pansy took Harry under her wing. Pansy left finding all of the necessary items to him since she couldn't even reach half of what they needed due to her height. Alone in the dim storage room, Harry – true to his often oblivious nature – didn't notice when the door shut and locked silently behind him.

Harry reached for a jar on one of the higher shelves when he felt like he was being watched. As if burned, Harry snatched his hand back and turned suddenly on his heel to find Draco staring innocently at his own list. Figuring that he hadn't seen Harry stare at him, he turned back and resumed reaching for the jar.

"Do you need to be taught how to read again? Those are eyes of newt."

"Oh," was Harry's feeble reply.

Adjusting his glasses and trying to focus his eyes in the dim light, his breath caught in his throat when Draco moved to stand beside him. One pale hand clutched his list and looked over his shoulder at what he needed to find. Harry could feel the warmth of Draco's body envelope him in the slightly cool room, calming him instantly knowing that he wasn't cold blooded like Ron and him had bet two years ago.

"This," began Draco, pointing to Harry's scrawl, "is shockingly enough right in front of you."

Draco's chest rubbed against Harry's arm as the Slytherin reached past him to grab a small jar tucked towards the back that Harry had missed. Harry's tongue worried his healing lip as he felt the other boy press further into his personal space.

"And the last one on your pathetic excuse for a written list is right here."

Stepping back to allow him some space, Harry watched as Draco moved in front of him and reached for something on the top shelf but over to the left. His body was slightly turned so Harry could see that strip of flesh again that he had noticed on the train. Licking his lip again, Harry restrained from reaching out and touching what he knew had to be soft flesh.

Suddenly, Harry stood up straight and frowned to himself. _What did you just want to do?_ he asked himself. There was no way that he actually wanted to touch the Slytherin let alone in that kind of way. Harry blushed instantly and shifted his feet awkwardly. Their fingers brushed briefly as Harry took the jar that Draco handed him, wanting to drop it and take Draco's hand instead.

_Hormones_, Harry told himself. _That's what all this is. Hormones._

A smirk played at the corner of Draco's lips like it often did and Harry knew that the other boy was somewhat aware of what was going on in his head. Harry could have kicked himself at that moment; he was so embarrassed.

"Honestly, Potter, you're an open book," Draco grinned. "You don't leave much up to the imagination, do you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry murmured, looking down at the two jars that he held in his hands.

"I've been thinking more about this little situation," he began, stepping closer to Harry to make sure that he had his full attention.

Harry met his grey eyes and then looked away, afraid that the blond could read his mind somehow. The sudden urge to run came to Harry's mind, but he knew that there was no way that Draco would let him get far enough. Embarrassed, confused, and ashamed, Harry stood there waiting for Draco to continue, trying to ignore the closeness of the other boy and what exactly it was doing to him.

"What situation?" Harry replied, feigning innocence.

"Do you need me to remind you about what happened yesterday?"

Deny, deny, deny. Harry had watched a documentary on an American president a few years ago and that had been his mantra regarding some personal issue that compromised his presidency. Harry could have chuckled at that moment thinking of something he had seen on a Muggle device that had happened to a Muggle and how it applied to him, a wizard. Draco would no doubt berate him at the absurdity and call him a Muggle lover, if Harry told him what he was thinking right now.

"Apparently you do."

"No, I was just –"

"Thinking about your sordid novel that I caught you reading yesterday and how aroused it was making you?"

"I wasn't aroused," Harry muttered, shifting awkwardly once again.

Harry hated himself at that moment because every time he talked with Draco, he was reduced to nothing. He muttered, he murmured, all of his confidence was gone. No one had ever had that effect on him and he wondered if maybe Voldemort should have taken lessons from Draco Malfoy. It was like he was a little boy, awkward and silly, around Draco. It was unnerving that no matter how many times Harry tried to look Draco in the eye, he couldn't because he felt like the blond would be able to see everything.

"That's not what it looked like to me, Potty."

Draco paused for a moment, waiting for Harry to correct him or defend himself. When nothing appeared to be coming forth, Draco continued.

"As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. I have been giving thought to this situation and I have decided what it is I am going to take from you."

"Take from me?" Harry asked, concern and fear lacing his tone.

"Yes."

"What do you want?"

"Your humility."

_Fuck_, Harry swore to himself. Draco wanted to make a fool out of Harry and he had no doubt in his mind that he would be able to do it effortlessly.

"And what if I say 'no'?"

"Rita Skeeter and my mother have tea every Sunday around eleven. I'm sure my mother would be delighted if I joined them, say, this weekend."

"What do you want me to do?"

Draco looked pensive for a moment, tapping his bottom lip with his neatly manicured finger. It only drew Harry's attention to the blond's thin pursed lips and made him wonder what they would feel like against his own. Harry chastised himself instantly for thinking that and considered the idea of shock collar.

"I'll let you know."

"When?"

"When I want you to do it."

Pushing past him, Draco made his way to the door and stopped when Harry spoke.

"Malfoy, what are you going to make me do?"

"I'm not going to _make_ you do anything, Potter."

Closing the door behind him, Draco made his way back to his table where Blaise waited for him. He put down the jars on the table before he sat down with a smug grin on his face.

"Were you having a wank in there or what?" Blaise asked, beginning to open the jars and measure out how much of each they needed.

"Draco, what did you do to Harry?" Pansy wondered, standing up.

Glancing over to the other corner of the room, Draco watched as Harry made his way carefully out of the room, looking a bit shaken. To the untrained eye, the Gryffindor appeared timid and nervous, but Draco could tell that Harry was pissed right off. There was a flush in the boy's cheeks that hadn't bee there a minute ago and the Slytherin knew that the he was trying, with some considerable effort, to get himself under control.

"Why, Pansy, what ever do you mean?"

Harry moved cautiously towards the table, afraid that he was going to drop something or trip over his own two feet. He let Pansy take the jars from and then sit down, his eyes immediately catching Draco's. This time, he refused to look away, surprisingly and impressing Draco. It wasn't very often that people would hold his stare.

"Something the matter, Potter, or are you just admiring my pureblood features again?" he questioned.

"Don't listen to him," murmured Pansy. "Here, take this and mince it."

Taking the knife from Pansy and keeping his stare on Draco, Harry did what Pansy asked. He could mange to watch what where his knife landed and Draco simultaneously. He wanted the Slytherin to be aware that he wasn't going to put up with Draco's intimidation tactics any longer.

"Harry, that's enough. You're done," interrupted Pansy worriedly, taking the knife away from her partner. "And if you plan on continuing your staring contest, I'll have you know that Draco _always _wins."

"Not this time," Harry said clearly, evenly so that Draco could hear him.

Standing up so that he could stir the cauldron that Pansy had readied for them earlier while he was harassed in the storage room, Harry finally took his eyes of Draco out of fear of burning himself.

"Draco, is there something you're not telling me?" whispered Blaise, leaning in close to his friend so that the other pair couldn't hear them.

"You'll know soon enough."

The remainder of class was uneventful aside from the numerous looks that Harry received from across the table from a curious Blaise and spiteful Draco. Packing up his things and thanking Pansy for her kindness and patience, Harry didn't see that Draco had slipped past him and out the door, not before leaving a little piece of parchment tucked under his books. Stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans underneath his robes, Harry desperately wanted to read what it said but knew better than to open it there while Ron and Hermione were advancing on him.

"How did it go, mate?" Ron asked, clasping Harry's shoulder.

"Could have been worse, I suppose."

The three of them made it out of the dungeon and to the main hallway where they would split their ways. Hermione had Transfiguration while Ron and Harry had Divination.

"Pansy's really nice, you know," stated Harry.

"Oh, don't tell me you fancy her," worried Ron, glancing at his friend.

"No! Not at all. I was surprised at how nice she was to me."

"Maybe she felt bad for you since Malfoy was a git as always. I saw the looks he kept giving you. Harry, I think he's plotting something."

"Ron, don't be paranoid," laughed Harry awkwardly, running his fingers through his already tousled hair.

"No, seriously. I overheard him saying something to that Zambini earlier before class started. He said something about blackmail."

"Well, Malfoy's got nothing on me."

"That you know of. That guy's as slimy as a wizard can get. It doesn't even matter if he has anything on you. He could make it up and who would know any different."

"Seriously, Ron. You're being ridiculous. Malfoy isn't scheming anything. He's just being his usual arse self."

"I hope you're right, Harry."

The rest of the day went by so slowly because all Harry wanted to do was retreated to his bed and open the little piece of parchment that Draco had left him. It made him jumpy and anxious for the better part of the day, slightly worrying both Ron and Hermione.

Harry glanced out of the window in the commons room, staring out at the lake glittering with moonlight. He stifled a yawn and looked around him, noticing that his fellow Gryffindors seemed to be struggling to stay awake as well. Well, minus Hermione of course who was intently reading her Transfiguration textbook.

"I think I'm going to hit the hay," Harry announced, only to receive a few confused looks. "Oh, sorry. Muggle expression I guess. I'm going to bed now."

"Oh, okay. See you in the morning," replied Seamus, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, Harry. Don't forget to set your alarm or else you'll be sitting with the Slytherins again," smiled Ron.

"Thanks."

After brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas, Harry collapsed onto his mattress and drew the curtains around his bed shut with his wand. He reached out and snatched the little piece of parchment that he had left on his night stand and whispered, _Lumos_.

Folding it open and peering at it through the dim light that he had cast, Harry read, _Meet me in the dungeons at 11:30 to discuss your first task._

Harry glanced at his wrist and quickly jumped out of bed. Retrieving his Invisibility Cloak from out his trunk, Harry slipped it over himself and headed out of Gryffindor Tower just as his watch read 11:28.


	4. The Task

**Disclaimer:** It's all JKR. I don't own, didn't create, and don't profit from any of this.

**Rating:** PG

**A/N:** I'd like to thank my beta Poseida Lunar for providing me with some direction as well as great ideas. : )

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Task**

It was needless to say that Draco Malfoy did _not _like to be kept waiting and Harry knew this. Scolding himself for his utter lack of time management, he descended the stairs in twos to the main floor. In the process, he had nearly tripped over his Invisibility Cloak more than once and had to slow down before he made a real mess out of himself. He expected a verbal reprimand as well as several insults when he reached the dungeon, but what he didn't expect was Draco striding towards him looking rather indignant.

"Fuck," Harry breathed out.

Before Draco could try to walk right through him, Harry unceremoniously dragged the cloak off of himself. The abrupt lack of echoing footfalls signaled to Harry that the Slytherin had stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Harry's form materializing out of apparently nowhere.

"So you _did_ remember our date." Draco sneered, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his slate grey slacks.

"Sorry, I, uh, had some trouble –"

"Save it, Potter. Just because everyone else around this castle lets you do what ever you please, doesn't mean I'll tolerate it."

Frowning, Harry was taken aback by the fact that not only was Draco acting like one of his teachers, but he was also actually upset that Harry was a few minutes late. As he shifted from side to side under Draco's uncomfortably inquisitive stare, Harry couldn't help but feel as if he was about to be given detention, from Draco no less.

"Is this when you give me a week's detention?" he wondered aloud, his amusement poorly hidden.

"If we're going to do this, clearly we're going to have to lay down some ground rules."

"Do what? I have no idea what is even going on, Malfoy. You're starting to make this sound like it's some conspiracy. Just get it over and done with. This isn't my first blackmail, you know. I'll do your homework. I'll lose to your bloody team. Actually, sod that last one. I'll carry your books around and what ever other demeaning task you plan on making me do."

While Harry's breath came out as light pants since he had worked himself up so much, Draco's breath came out as a sigh of mild annoyance and impatience.

"Give me some credit when it is due, Potter. This isn't my first blackmail either. This information I have on you is worth much more than you doing my school work, which I'm better at than you anyways; or the Slytherins winning – because we will this year; or any other petty chore."

"Then what do you want me to do, Malfoy? I don't have anything you want."

With his characteristic Malfoy-smirk, Draco replied, "Well, Potter, there are _some _things that you have that I wish to acquire."

"Name it."

"We're not going to be done for some time, Potty, so quit your whining."

"I'm starting to think this is more hassle than what it's worth," Harry replied, starting to turn away from the other boy.

"Your choice. I'd be more than happy to sell this story as well as some other interesting tidbits to Miss Rita Skeeter than deal with the likes of you."

"What 'interesting tidbits'?"

"Well, there is your extremely large collection of gay porn, not to mention the couple that you have starred in."

"I've never starred in a pornography film before!"

"Doesn't matter. I can make it look like you did. Should I keep going then?"

"No, Malfoy. I get the point."

"Good. Here are the rules then, Potter, and make sure that you adhere to them or else I'll have to use one of those flogging devices on you that you keep in your trunk."

"There's no such thing in my trunk!"

"There will be if you're late again and then I'll be sure to give Skeeter a copy of the photo. Also, don't discuss any of what goes on with the Mudblood or the weasel," began Draco, ignoring Harry's interruption and continuing, "or anyone else for that matter. Lie if you have to. Third, you _will_ be discreet, Potter. And finally, no questions. I'll tell you as much as you need to know."

"Are we busting someone out of Azkaban, or what Malfoy? Why all these rules?"

"They're necessary or else they wouldn't be there."

There was a brief silence in which Draco looked around anxiously and Harry stared anywhere but at Draco when he noticed that the turtleneck Draco wore fit him rather snuggly, hugging his lean arms and somewhat broad shoulders.

"We shouldn't be discussing this here. Follow me."

"But there's no one around," Harry protested, already following Draco.

"What is rule number four again, Potter?"

"Right," he mumbled.

In truth, Harry felt moderately secure where they had been before. The corridor had been big and open, which happened to make them vulnerable if they needed to hide, but it made Harry feel safe in case Draco decided to blindside him with an ambush. Also, Harry noticed that they were moving further and further away from Gryffindor Tower and closer to the dungeons.

As they began to descend the winding stairs, Draco glanced over at Harry who appeared visibly nervous, looking about as if someone would jump out at any second. Harry's hair was still tousled from when he had rather ungracefully ripped his cloak from his head earlier and his eyes were open wide, his nostrils slightly flared.

"Relax, Potter," soothed Draco, brushing past the other boy to whisper something to the portrait hole. "You know, for someone who is a Parselmouth you sure are afraid of snakes."

Harry swallowed visibly as he watched Draco climb through. Digging deep for his Gryffindor courage, Harry stomped after him only to fall flat on his face when he lost his footing on the uneven floor. On the way down, Harry had reached out for anything to stop or brace him. Apparently Draco had been the closest thing to him because when Harry took in his bearings, he had a difficult time breathing due to the rather heavy weight on his chest that looked, and definitely sounded a lot like Draco Malfoy.

"Good. I'm glad to see you finally know your place, Potter."

That was definitely not what Harry had expected Draco to say though it appeared that the Slytherin was full of surprises that evening. It was the second time that Harry anticipated a row and had stood corrected. He couldn't decide whether or not he should have been pleased with Draco or worried that the blond was going soft on him.

"And where's that?" Harry replied.

"Beneath me."

Draco chuckled softly as confusion laced Harry's features. The brunet couldn't decide if he was making a pun or if he just meant one thing. Was he talking status in society? Or in the bedroom? Harry knew which one he hoped the blond was talking about though he knew there was no point of even going there.

As much as he wanted to stay on top of the Gryffindor for the rest of night and demonstrate to Harry what exactly was on his mind, he knew that he needed to stay on task. Getting up proved to be disappointing since the reaction that Harry had to Draco's body was not as significant as Draco's reaction to Harry's. Steeling his features, Draco smoothed out his clothing despite the fact that they were still as neatly pressed as they had been before. He chanced a look down at Harry who was beginning to sit up, rubbing the back of his head with a furrowed brow. A small smile slipped past his façade when he realized that Harry was still trying to figure out what he had meant earlier.

"Let it go, Potter."

Draco turned on his heel and slowly made his way up the stairs, finally exhaling when he heard footsteps close behind him.

"Someone's going to see me."

"Don't be daft. Everyone's in bed," he whispered back.

"_We're _not in bed."

"We should be," he muttered, though Harry heard every word of it.

The Slytherin common room didn't look any different when he had last seen it with Ron when they took the Polyjuice potion and were Crabbe and Goyle. The room was swathed in silver and green much like the red and gold of Gryffindor. Harry didn't get to peer much more for he felt Draco's hand clutching his arm, steering him in the opposite direction of his wanderings.

"If you're not careful, someone _will _see you."

Even though Harry readily changed paths and followed Draco, the Slytherin took longer than was required to hold Harry's arm. It wasn't until Harry gave a slight, nervous cough that Draco took as one of discomfort that he reluctantly let go.

"Private chambers. Honestly, Malfoy?"

"One of the benefits of being a Prefect, Potter. Not to mention generous sums of money, not that it's any of your business."

While Draco ducked into what Harry assumed was the bathroom, he stood in the centre of the room, fumbling with his hands until Draco came back with a piece of parchment.

"Have a seat."

Looking around, the only piece of furniture that could have permitted that very action without Harry sitting on top of Draco's lap was the bed or the floor. Why only one chair? he wondered.

"A select few have been privileged enough to see this room," Draco stated, as if reading Harry's mind.

Harry couldn't help but snort as a reply before adding, "That's not what I heard."

"Contrary to what your pathetic excuse for a brain might think, Potter, I don't bed everything that moves."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry waited for the blond to continue because he knew he wasn't finished. In the mean time, Harry reluctantly sat on the very edge of the foot of Draco's bed, absently caressing the silk fabric.

"Well, at least not in this bed."

When Harry cracked a smile, Draco felt a slight tug at his heart. _If only…_

"Are you trying to seduce me, Harry?"

Harry froze in his spot.

"Um, excuse me?"

"What else am I suppose to think when you caress my bed like that? You're making it very inviting."

With that said, Draco stood up and leisurely strolled towards Harry who easily could have fainted at the sight before him. The Slytherin looked positively delicious in his grey slacks, black sweater, and gently mussed hair with a predatory gaze staring at Harry. Between Draco's advancements on him and all the preamble to what ever it was that Draco really wanted Harry to do, Harry felt overly anxious, complete with a fluttering feeling in his torso.

"Don't worry, Potter. I'm not going to molest you. I want to show you this," Draco stated, deflated when he heard the sigh of relief from the other boy.

Taking what Draco handed to him, Harry glanced over the piece of parchment and then stared at the blond who had seated himself next to Harry, close enough to be intimate but far enough that it barely suggested anything but friendship.

"Why did you just hand me a picture of an egg?"

"It's not just any egg, you ignorant –"

"It's a dragon's egg. I _know_," Harry retorted, running his fingers quickly through his hair. "The question, is –"

"No questions. Remember?"

"How do you expect me not to ask questions if you're going to ask me to do what I think you're going to ask me to do?"

"And what, pray tell, am I going to ask you to do?"

"Steal this."

"If you have to."

"Malfoy, surely I don't need to list off the impossibilities of this."

"I don't see anything stopping you."

"Uh, the Ministry of Magic comes to mind or did you forget that a dragon's egg is a Class A Non-tradeable material?"

"Potter, I'm not as dumb as you look. I'm fully aware of their status and that is why I need you." In more ways than one.

"Why do you think that I'll have any better luck than you?"

"Because you're the Boy-Who-Lived, Potter. People would grovel at your feet if you let them."

"This is illegal."

"That makes it all the more fun."

"I could be expelled."

"Rubbish. So quickly you forget that you have everyone around here wrapped around your finger. You have an awful memory tonight, if I do say so."

"Why do you need it so badly?"

_Because I need you so badly_, was on the tip of his tongue, but Draco knew that it would have fallen on deaf ears.

"Are you really that desperate to be flogged? I said no questions."

"This is ridiculous, Malfoy. I can't. If I got caught…" Harry shook his head as he trailed off.

"That's where the discretion rule comes in."

"It's not that simple," Harry persisted.

"Potter, you _will_ do this or else you will suffer the consequences and you know what they are unless you've forgotten them too."

"I haven't."

"Good. Then I expect to have that egg in my hands by Christmas."

"Two months? That's it?"

"That's more than enough time. Consider it generous."

"I can't believe I'm actually considering doing this."

"You don't have much of choice, Potter."

Harry held his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped forward so that his elbows could rest on his thighs. Draco desperately wanted to massage the tension that he could see out of Harry's back, but he knew that he would never get the chance. Not until Harry got him the dragon's egg, at least.

Draco smiled softly to himself as he leaned back against one of the posts of his four-poster bed. All this trouble would be worth it, he reasoned as he watched Harry who had now started to shake his head. There wasn't any other way.


	5. The Wizards in the Cupboard

**Disclaimer:** I don't own or profit from any of it and I didn't create it. The title is a poor rendition of Lynn Reid Banks's _The Indian in the Cupboard_. Again, no infringment intended. I just like making poor puns because that's what my History degree has taught me.

**Rating:** PG-13 (slowly increasing : p)

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews. I know a couple people are confused about the whole dragon's egg thing, but it'll come to light soon. Thanks again to my beta Poseida Lunar for being marvelous. Much love.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Wizards in the Cupboard**

While the rest of the class eagerly gathered up their books and bags, Harry took his time, moving no faster than one of the sloth he had seen at the zoo a few years ago when he had spoken Parseltongue for the first time. As his hands moved on their own accord, Harry's eyes were glued to the back of Draco's head. The blond appeared to be relishing in the praise that Snape was giving him for one of his 'perfectly executed' assignments. Harry could have vomited if he wasn't so distracted.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go. I'm starved," complained Ron, nudging his friend on the shoulder.

"You go ahead. I'll catch up with you guys in a bit."

Hermione and Ron both stopped walking and turned to look at Harry who was just zipping up his bag, his eyes on the front of the classroom.

"He looks jinxed," whispered Ron.

Hermione gave him a not-so subtle elbow in the ribs to quiet him before she moved closer to Harry, intercepting his gaze. He immediately tried to look around her but she moved with him.

"Is everything all right, Harry?"

"Just got to speak to Snape about something."

"Did you do poorly on your assignment? I told you, you should have been working on it instead of going to Hogsmeade with Ron over the weekend."

"No, it's not like that, Hermione. He made some suggestions that I want to ask him about."

As much as Harry didn't like to admit it, lying had become second nature to him though he wasn't used to telling falsehood to Hermione and Ron. Well, they weren't entirely untrue. Snap had made suggestions, one of them being to go back and retake first-year Potions.

"Oh, Harry, that's excellent. I'm glad you're expanding your academic horizons."

With that, Hermione and Ron walked off and out of the classroom just as Harry stood up and made his way over to Draco, who was gathering his belongings.

"I need to speak with you," Harry muttered, only slowing down a little so the other young man could hear him.

He continued on out of the classroom because if Snape had seen the two of them sharing discourse, he would have gotten suspicious or assumed the two boys were about to have another row. It seemed like ages to Harry, who was waiting outside of the doorway, for Draco to come out. Draco looked left and before he could look right, Harry dragged him across the hall and into one of the storage cupboards.

"Potter! What is the meaning of this?" exclaimed Draco, clutching the side of his head that had connected with one of the shelves when Harry had unceremoniously shoved them both in.

"I need to talk to you."

"So much for discretion. Snape could have walked out the very moment you shoved me in here. Then what, Potter?"

"But he didn't."

"It's hypothetical."

"There's no point dwelling over it now, Malfoy. I need to talk to you about the dragon's egg."

"Keep your voice down. Anyone passing by can likely hear you."

To shut Draco up, Harry cast a Silencing Charm and then whispered _Lumos_ so that he could read the Slytherin's face when he spoke. It was then that Harry realized that he should have found a more accommodating place for the two of them to discuss. The storage room was in fact a cupboard, reserved for spare linens and other small items that Harry couldn't make out behind Draco.

Due to the lack of room, Harry's arms were drawn to his sides, as were Draco's, and the two young men were standing toe to toe. Harry's cheeks flushed when he noticed how ridiculous his scuffed up dress shoes next to Draco's perfectly polished and shined, obviously authentic black snake skin shoes. They both had exuberant amounts of money, but there was no question that Draco could flaunt it better.

"Yes, Potter. They're real. Maybe if you stepped outside of that dreadful closet of your cousin's every now and then, you would realize a phenomenon called 'style.'"

"I've got style," Harry muttered.

Glancing away from Draco's feet didn't give Harry much choice elsewhere to look. When he decided on trying to figure out what was behind Draco and realizing that it was only silverware, Harry became easily distracted by the fine blond hairs on behind Draco's ears.

"So, Potter. What do I owe this lovely harassment to?"

"I'm not harassing you," Harry retorted. "I'm trying to talk to you."

"And what a shame that is. Talk then, Potter, unless you're going to summon lunch. I'm famished."

"Fine. I'll make it quick."

"See that you do."

"Do you really want to spend the rest of the afternoon in this cupboard with me or can I continue?" Harry asked, soundly increasingly exasperated.

"Is that an invitation?"

"And what could I possibly be inviting you to do, Malfoy?"

"There are plenty of things that students do in broom closets or storage rooms…or cupboards."

As Draco said this, Harry noted that Draco was a bit closer to him than he had been a moment ago. Now, their noses were almost touching and Harry was sure that Draco could see the perspiration on his brow line. Absently, Harry licked his lips out of nervousness and practically groaned when he saw that Draco's slate eyes flickered from his mouth and back up to meet his gaze.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest when Draco's arms reached out and planted themselves on the door on either side of Harry's head, effectively blocking him in.

"And what's that?" Harry croaked out.

There were warning bells and sings littering the inside of Harry's brain, telling him to get out now because Draco was merely taunting him. A frown rippled across Harry's face, his gaze now downcast and settling on the hem of Draco's robes. This had to be a joke. Draco was only going to use this seduction as further information to blackmail him with. He'd twist it around and say that Harry had dragged him into the cupboard and molested him, Draco narrowly escaping before the Gryffindor could contaminate him.

"Do you really want to me to show you, Harry?"

The last bit of the sentence caught Harry's attention and met the grey eyes boring into his. This had been the second time that Draco had used Harry's first name and in a manner of suggestiveness. The blond clearly knew the arts of seducing and was playing Harry deftly.

There was utter silence when Harry stopped his mild panting as Draco's fingertips brushed across the side of Harry's cheek and around to cup the back of his neck. Harry turned his other cheek to the Slytherin when he saw that Draco was moving closer. The Gryffindor couldn't see it, but Draco's heart sunk down into his stomach and ached with rejection.

"Don't, Malfoy. I know what this is all about," Harry murmured.

Draco's other hand took Harry by the chin so he would meet his eyes once more.

"You don't have a clue, Harry."

Draco refused to refer to the brunet by his surname while they were this intimately close. He wanted him to understand that he was behind serious, that this wasn't some kind of petty schoolboy joke.

"You're just going to blackmail with this."

"With what? We haven't done anything."

"Not yet."

"I'd never force you to do anything you didn't want to do."

"So what about the dragon's egg then? Do you think I want to be your little minion and retrieve it for you? Do you think I enjoy you having all this power of me? This only makes me loathe you even more, Malfoy. Some schoolboy flirtations in a cupboard aren't going to change that."

Draco observed that Harry was now seething enough that he could feel the waves of heat emanating off of him and slithering across Draco's exposed skin. He wasn't sure whether or not he should move away and give the brunt some space in the cramped room or let him deal with their proximity himself.

Every ounce of Draco pleaded with himself to stay where he was and he finally relented, even daring to move in closer as he clutched Harry's chin between his thumb and forefinger. He could see that Harry was sweating slightly along his hairline and his upper lip. Now that Draco thought of it, it was rather stifling in the small room, but it didn't bother him since he rarely broke a sweat. Not like Harry though, he mused. He had seen the Gryffindor drenched in sweat after countless Quidditch games and Draco imagined that after a bout in bed, the brunet would be just as wet.

Draco wasn't sure how to handle what Harry had said because every time he tried to formulate a response, it always started with him confessing his deepest feelings for Harry and that would surely get them nowhere fast. If anything, it would scare the Gryffindor away and Draco would be helpless.

"So what is it that you so desperately needed to discuss with me, Potter, since I highly doubt that this is what you had in mind?"

Harry was somewhat relieved when Draco switched back to calling him by his surname because each time that Draco had uttered his first name, he melted a little, loving the way the blond said it. Instantly disciplining himself for getting distracting once more by Draco, Harry tried to focus and did so by staring back into the grey orbs that were challenging him. He needed to be strong and demonstrate who was running the show, though Harry knew that it was obviously Draco.

"Does it matter what kind of dragon's egg?"

If Draco hadn't been stoic before, he definitely deadpanned now.

"_That's_ why you dragged me into this hole for? Blimey, Potter, I didn't realize you were going to take your task so seriously."

"Well certain eggs are better for certain potions and are worth more money."

Narrowing his eyes at the Gryffindor, Draco realized that maybe Harry wasn't as dim as he had originally perceived. Draco had been banking on Harry's utter incompetence in Potions though it appeared he knew somewhat. Well, he supposed, it was hard for most wizards to be completely brainless when it came to mythical creatures, especially for Harry since he had defeated the Hungarian Horntail in the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.

"Any one will do."

"I didn't want to get the wrong one."

"Get one and I'll be happy."

"Malfoy," Harry began and he knew that Draco could tell this would end up in a question, "is it really going to be worth it in the end?"

"Definitely, Potter."

Silence covered the cupboard. Harry shifted awkwardly, still trapped by Draco's arms, which had to have been tingling with numbness by now, and wondering if the blond was either going to do something about their proximity or get out of his face. Meanwhile Draco was fighting an internal battle with one half of himself to own up and kiss Harry, while the other commanded him to end this with Harry wanting more and wondering what it would have been like if Draco had kissed him.

"Is there something else you'll like to talk about, Potter, or are you going to stand there shuffling about like a child for the remainder of the day?"

Draco had to admit that Harry looked adorable shifting nervously about, waiting for the other young man to say or do something.

"I can't bloody well go anywhere, Malfoy."

"Maybe I don't want you to go anywhere," Draco drawled.

"You just made fun of me for standing here and now you're saying you don't want me to move?" Harry replied, clearly confused with Draco's opposing messages.

"Maybe."

"I'm done playing games with you," Harry growled.

Turning around proved to be a horrendously bad idea because Harry was suddenly trapped between the door and Draco in a completely different position that was utterly suggestive and practically inviting Draco to comment on it.

"Well, this is much better. Don't you think, Harry?" Draco whispered, directly into Harry's ear.

Currently flush with the door and being pressed against it by Draco's body, Harry turned his head to the side to see Draco smirking at him. Their position sent all kind of thoughts that appeared to have taken notes from the smutty novel he had been reading on the train. He could feel Draco's chest pressing hard against his back while the blond's hips applied equal pressure to Harry's behind. Draco was clearly taller though Harry knew that he was the stronger one.

Trying to find a more pleasant stance since the wood of the door was biting into his cheek and neck, Harry altered his stance, which made him suddenly aware that his erection was straining against the confines of the door and almost winning. And if Harry didn't know better, he would have attributed Draco's bony hip to be the source of nudging in his lower side.

Draco's hands slipped from the door and ran down Harry's sides in search of Harry's arms that dangled helplessly at their sides. Grabbing Harry by the wrists, Draco pinned his hands to the door above Harry's head and smirked in satisfaction at Harry's complete complicity.

"I never thought you'd be so easily dominated, Harry," Draco purred, before running his tongue along the outside shell of Harry's ear. "Always thought you'd a least feign giving up a fight."

"I'm not going to feed your perverse fantasies, Malfoy," he spat.

"They'd sure put your little novel to shame, that's for sure."

Harry wriggled a little beneath Draco's grasp, causing the blond to bit down on his bottom lip to prevent a groan from slipping past his lips when Harry inadvertently rubbed his behind against Draco's erection. Any embarrassment that Draco had for his current state was well hidden because it was obvious that Harry knew what it was that frequently prodded his backside because his body stiffened each time Draco's erection pressed against him further. Draco wondered what he would find if he reached around Harry and cupped his groin. The thought both thrilled him and saddened him because of the way current events were playing out.

"You're not helping," Draco grounded out, his frustration intensifying when Harry squirmed again.

"I'm not trying to."

Growling his frustration, Draco dropping Harry's arms like they were scolding his hands and pushed the Gryffindor further into the door despite the fact that Harry couldn't get any closer. Harry hissed softly as his erection fought the hardness of the door when Draco shoved him.

"Get out, Potter. We're done here."

"Fine!"

Harry turned around and faced Draco, seeing briefing what looked like disappointment in his grey eyes.

"Are you happy you got what you wanted, _Draco_?" Harry imitated one of Draco's patent sneers and nearly pulled it off.

"What're you on about, Potter? You made sure –"

While Draco had been observing Harry's flustered state and when his eyes roamed down from his heated face to his heaving chest and then further down to the blatant bulge in his hands, he stopped mind sentence and simply stared. That was _exactly _what Draco had wanted and he could have pumped his fist into the air had there not been a very pissed off Harry in front of him.

"That's impressive," Draco murmured, taking a step closer.

"You've done enough!" Harry declared.

Before Draco could take another step further, the door to the cupboard was slammed into his face, almost catching the end of his nose. Standing stunned at what had just happened over the last five minutes, Draco sighed heavily and looked down at his little problem.


	6. Stuck between a Rock and a Hard Draco

**Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I'll put them back in J.K. Rowling's toy box once I'm done playing with them and making them do dirty things to one another.

**Rating:** R for 'randy'

**A/N:** I know some have been a little upset that it's already chapter six and Draco and Harry haven't done the dirty deed yet but this is one of those fics where it needs to go nice and slow because of who exactly we're dealing with and the circumstances.

Here's a little teaser, well, it's more than that, to tie you over.

Thank you eriiika33 for the unexpected and moderately embarrassing beta :)

* * *

**Chapter Six: Stuck between a Rock and a Hard Draco**

The last thing Harry felt like doing was wolfing down his breakfast like Ron was in record time. He had a routine down: take a bite, check watch, look around for Hedwig, repeat. Of course he could feel Hermione staring at him which was usual when he wasn't eating like the rest of the teenage male population but he couldn't help it. He was distracted.

When he looked for Hedwig on probably his tenth round of his routine, his eyes flickered across Draco and then glanced back when he realized that the Slytherin was practically ogling him. The trademark smirk was plastered across Draco's alabaster face and Harry knew immediately that he must have had some potato on his cheek or bacon in his hair. It wouldn't have been the first time because when Ron ate, there tended to be a spray since he ate so fast that his mouth always appeared open and chewing.

Running his hand over his face, Harry was disappointed when he didn't discover any of Ron's breakfast. Apparently Draco was simply mocking, which shouldn't have surprised Harry so much since it was as hourly occurrence. Scowling, Harry focused on his plate and stabbed at some potatoes with his fork, wishing it was Draco's eye. Of course Harry instantly regretted the thought because Draco's eyes were all he could think about. As much as it bothered him that Draco was mocking him, it didn't matter if his stormy grey eyes were watching him. It almost became worth it.

Sighing softly to himself, Harry pushed a piece of harm around his plate when he noticed that Hedwig was nowhere in sight. It had been five days since he had owled Charlie and although he knew that Hedwig had a lot of flying from England to Romania, he still figured that she should have been back by now after he had stressed the urgency of the reply. It had been four days since the cupboard incident, as Harry repeatedly referred to it in his head, and he had no spoken to Draco at all since. There was nothing for Harry to say to the Slytherin until he had more information on getting an egg. And finally, it had been four hours since Harry had decided to stop kidding himself. Despite all of Draco's qualities, Harry liked him more than he definitely should have. After all, Draco was arrogant, conniving, deceiving, and a general prat. However, Harry could not erase the memory of Draco's body pressing him firmly into the door, the blond's erection making itself known.

Something in Harry clung to the image of the disappointment that flickered across Draco's features when Harry had basically refused him. There were too many mixed messages and confusing emotions for Harry to handle rationally. Naturally, Harry went in self-defense mode and rejected Draco because a part of him was completely unwillingly to believe that the Slytherin could have any feelings for him other than contempt. Harry couldn't ignore the fact that Draco had been aroused though it seemed likely that the blond could probably get off on anything rubbing against his crotch.

After he glanced at his watch, Harry looked around the Great Hall when he heard the sound of wings flapping and several screeches. At the back of the flood of owls, Harry spotted Hedwig and grinned madly. The look didn't go unnoticed as both Draco and Hermione caught the overly excited expression on Harry's face. A moment later, Hedwig plopped a piece of rolled parchment into Harry's outstretched hand and settled herself on the table, taking small sips from Harry's cup.

Ignoring Ron and Hermiones' inquisitive looks, Harry carefully unrolled the parchment and angled it away from the, reading the neat scroll that Harry instantly recognized as belong to Charlie.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I must say it was great to hear from you, though I am a bit concerned about your request. I'm sorry to hear that Hagrid's owl recently perished and it was nice of Hedwig to take up such a strenuous task. However, I am a bit perplexed as to why Hagrid would have any need for a dragon's egg, but one never really knows what goes on with that one. _

_One of our Hungarian Horntails recently laid eggs and although it will be a feat to try and catch the mother unawares, I would be more than happy to help Hagrid with his request. Ask him if there is a certain date that he needs it by and I will try to accommodate him._

_Send my best regards,_

_Charlie Weasley. _

As he rolled up the parchment, Harry instantly felt some of the tension release from his body. Charlie's agreement was not exactly what Harry had anticipated, far from it actually. The whole situation seemed a little bit too easy for Harry, but he knew that Charlie and Hagrid were good friends and shared a love of dragons, which many did not. Charlie would also never suspect Harry of lying, which made the fact that Harry did all the more horrible and the request all the more plausible because what would Harry need a dragon's egg for?

Harry stroked Hedwig and murmured his thanks to her before she flew off to no doubt find some of her own breakfast since Harry's didn't please her much. He figured that he would allow her to rest for the day, maybe two, and then would send his reply back to Charlie. After all, it was still early since Draco had given him this task and Harry doubted that a couple of days would make a difference.

"Who was that from?" wondered Hermione, appearing nonchalant though Harry knew that her curiosity would drive them both insane if he didn't give her something.

The part about the whole ordeal with Draco that bothered Harry the most was lying. Not only was he a terrible liar half of the time, but also found no reason to lie to his two best friends who were staring at him with intense interest. When it came down to it though, Harry could _not_ tell Ron and Hermione that he had asked Charlie for a dragon's egg, whether it was for Hagrid or Draco, because both options would lead to endless questionings.

Under the heat of their stares, Harry could feel himself blush as he often did before he was about to tell a lie. It was, after all, what happened before he told a lie or so Hermione informed him.

"I, um. It's a secret," Harry stammered, looking back down at his plate when Hermione raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

"And since when have you been keeping secrets from us, Harry?" she asked.

"Aw, 'Mione, look at him," began Ron, nudging her with his elbow. "He's embarrassed! Harry, have you got a girlfriend you've been hiding from us?"

"That's ridiculous, Ron." Hermione turned back to Harry and frowned. "Right, Harry?"

"That would explain why he shot down Ginny all summer," reasoned Ron, as if Harry wasn't sitting right beside him.

To Harry, it seemed the perfect excuse since Ron himself had offered it up, but Harry didn't think further into it and what would be the later consequences.

"Yeah, I, uh. Didn't know how to tell you guys," Harry murmured, still blushing.

"Aw, Harry!! That's great!"

Hermione shoved Ron practically into his breakfast to reach over him so that she could give Harry a smothering hug. The grin on her face was wide and genuine, so much that it tugged uncomfortably at Harry's heart in the fact that she would be horribly disappointed when he would eventually tell her that he didn't like girls at all in that way.

"I mean, I would have loved you and Ginny to have worked out because then, you know… Ron and Hermione, you and Ginny. Whatever. This is great! So, what's her name? Where did you meet her?"

Hermione was beaming and practically giggling with excitement while Ron rubbed his chest, sore from the hard push Hermione had given him into the table. Several ears perked up around them, intent upon hearing gossip about the Boy Who Lived.

"Um, Hermione? I don't think this is the right place to talk about this. Maybe after classes?" Harry offered, glancing around them.

Hermione nodded after noticing that the conversations around them had considerably died done and were mere whispers so they could hear what was going on. However, someone appeared not to mind breaking the silence that had enveloped the usually lively Gryffindor table.

"Harry, you have a girlfriend?" Ginny whispered from a few people down.

Her eyes were burning into his temple, forcing him to look up. The though would destroy her no doubt, Harry concluded, but not as much as the real truth.

"Yeah, I do."

If everyone at the table hadn't already been watching they definitely were now as Ginny removed herself from the table and stormed out of the hall without saying another word. In truth, Harry had thought that there would have been a good row but he was relieved to have been proven wrong.

The entire hall stopped talking as Ginny basically ran to the doors, crying into her hands before she threw open the doors. Heads whipped to the Gryffindor table to stare intently at Harry who appeared just as bewildered as the rest. Of all the eyes focused on him, Harry singled out Draco's from across the room. His neatly groomed eyebrow was poised in question as his head tilted slightly to one side. Shaking his head gently, Harry shrugged and sighed for a reply, triggering Draco to chuckle softly and roll his eyes at the drama of the situation no doubt. While chatter and noise began to erupt in the hall once again, Draco and Harry continued to silently communicate across the way from one another.

"Harry, what're you going to tell Ginny?" wondered Hermione. She waited for a moment and then spoke again, "Harry? Are you listening to me?"

"Oh, uh, sorry. Must have wandered off for a sec. What did you say?"

Really, Harry had been concentrating too much on Draco for him to even notice what was occurring around him. At that moment, the Slytherin had chosen to stretch back and side to side. Even though Harry couldn't see much given that Draco was wearing robes and there was a table in front of him, he knew that there was that little patch of skin exposed beneath Draco's robes, waiting to be tasted.

"I asked what you're going to tell Ginny."

"Probably as little as possible, I imagine. I'm not sure that she'll want to hear every detail."

"But you are going to talk to her about, right?"

"Do you want me to move?" questioned Ron. "I'm getting sick of leaning forward so that you two can talk over me."

"That would be lovely, Ron," replied Hermione, getting up.

"I wasn't being serious."

"Oh, well then why did you even bother to offer?"

"It's okay, Hermione. We can talk on the way to class."

"Thanks," muttered Ron as Hermione turned away to talk to Lavender Brown who was seated across from her and next to Ginny's empty seat.

Finally, Harry was left to himself as Ron struck up conversation with Seamus about this year's Quidditch prospects. It was the usual banter about how Gryffindor would clearly prevail over the Slytherins and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw also stood little chance. Harry tuned them out as they began to discuss each player of the Slytherin team and their strengths as well as weaknesses because the only player on the Slytherin Quidditch team that was of any interest to him was currently staring at him. Harry watched as Draco's eyes roamed over the piece of parchment that Harry still clutched in his free hand that wasn't holding his fork. Wonder danced across Draco's gaze and Harry nodded his head, hoping that he would understand what he meant. Apparently the Slytherin caught on faster than Harry anticipated because a moment later, Draco gestured to the door.

"Ron, Hermione, I think I'm going to go talk to Ginny before class starts."

"I think that's a good idea," Hermione responded, while Ron nodded in approval. "Better to clear things up before she hears any rumors."

"What rumors?" Harry asked, stopping briefly as he got up from the table.

"The ones that are likely to spread around before lunch time. You know how gossip is around here."

"Yeah, you're right. Okay, well, I'll see you in Transfiguration, Ron."

While Harry had conversed in low tones with Ron and Hermione, Draco had slipped out of the hall, barely noticed. When Harry glanced over his shoulder to the Slytherin table, he frowned when he found Draco's seat empty but figured that he would see the blond soon enough. Stuffing the parchment into the pocket of his jeans underneath his robes, Harry walked out of the hall and into the near empty corridor. Looking right at the sound of footfalls, Harry turned just in time to see Draco peek over his shoulder to make sure that Harry was behind him.

Following the Slytherin quietly had its advantages, Harry quickly realized. It gave him the opportunity to observe the other young man as they moved between floors, careful not to cross paths with any students or teachers. As they walked, Harry noticed that Draco had the habit of playing with a silver ring that he wore on his right hand that Harry had never spotted before. Draco's strides were long and even while his stance was straight and utterly confident, probably because he could feel Harry's eyes traveling across his shoulders and down his back to settle on his behind that he could barely make out because of the loose fitting robe.

The entire time Harry had been so distracted by Draco's mannerisms that he hadn't noticed that the blond was leading him down to the Quidditch change rooms. When he thought about it, it made sense because given that classes were about to start soon, they had limited places to discuss such a private matter. Going to the dungeons or Gryffindor Tower also seemed like bad ideas because one never knew the coming and goings of other students. Here in the change rooms, no one had an excuse to be present. Practice started next week and classes were almost in cession for the day.

With a quick glimpse at his watch, Harry noted that he was definitely going to be late for Transfiguration if he even bothered showing up at all. Knowing Draco, the conversation would take three times as long as it needed to since the blond seemed rather fond of preamble or what he had called 'foreplay.'

Taking a seat astride the familiar bench that ran down the middle of the spacious change room, Draco caught Harry watching him and noticed the slight shiver that snaked up the brunet's spin. For a moment, it looked like Harry was about to mirror his actions but then thought better of it, deciding to lean somewhat casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Draco was tempted to roll his eyes at Harry's unease that was poorly masked by his nonchalant façade.

"What's on the parchment, Potter?"

Surprise must have washed across Harry's face because a second later, the blond was chucking into his fist, trying to stifle the small fit of laughter.

"No foreplay?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, clearly misunderstanding what the Gryffindor meant.

"Normally we dance around the subject for a good ten minutes before we even try to talk about it."

"Do you want to talk about the letter or should we talk about something different first for preamble's sake? Say, the Weaselette's outburst?"

"Oh, that was nothing."

"Somehow, I think it wasn't."

"Well, I had to lie about what the letter said so I just agreed with what Ron said."

"Which was?"

"That I have a girlfriend and it was a letter from her."

"And the Weaselette overheard and you attested to it causing her to run off in tears?"

"Basically."

"Oh, Potter, that's rich. Breaking hearts already before the truth is even out."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Clearly no one would actually send you a love letter so what does it really say?"

"It's from Charlie Weasley."

"So, when you said 'girlfriend,' you really meant 'boyfriend'?"

"He has a dragon's egg," Harry continued, ignoring Draco's bantering and handing him the piece of parchment that had crinkled slightly in his pocket.

"That was quick."

Harry frowned slightly, noticing that the Slytherin made no effort to read what was written on the parchment. He doubted very much that the blond trusted him that much and Harry knew by now than to try and comprehend why Draco did the things that he did because he would never understand.

"The sooner the better, right?"

"Really, Potter, I'm impressed. I thought I'd be waiting until December 24th to get it."

"I want to get this over with," Harry hastily replied.

The fact was, was that Harry _did_ want to get this over with because he found it increasingly difficult to keep his hormones in check with each visit that Harry had with Draco, especially when the blond looked as scrumptious as he did right then, his arms folded over his robe-clad chest while his hair was gently tousled. This year, it appeared that Draco had seen the error of his gel-slicked ways and currently adopted the just-been-shagged look instead.

"My thoughts exactly. Why delay the inevitable, right?"

Seeing Harry's confusion and never being the one to let Harry down, the Slytherin scanned the parchment quickly before handing it back to Harry, their fingers touching accidentally. Draco's forefinger caressed along Harry's knuckle and slipped in between Harry's fore and middle fingers before the brunet attempted snatched the paper back. Draco was too quick and grabbed Harry by the wrist in one movement and suddenly using Harry's weight to pull himself up from the bench. Harry stumbled forward, completely caught off guard by Draco's actions, and straight into the blond's arms. In all honestly, Harry would have rather had Draco let him trip over the bench and land face first on the tile than let Draco see the blush that consumed Harry's face. Head spread from Draco's hand, still grasping his wrist between them and when Harry looked down, his color in his cheeks reddened.

As a frown developed on Harry's brow, Draco released his hold on Harry but kept the distance between them minimal until Harry was stuck between the wall and Draco.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You know, Potter, you should really be rewarded for your enthusiasm."

"I'm not enthusiastic about any of this at all. And rewarded? Malfoy, I'm being blackmailed. I don't have a choice here."

Harry was not oblivious to the heat and tension that crackled in the air around them. He could see that a fire had lit in Draco's eyes, bringing the Slytherin out of his cold nature though Harry knew that would still be just as devious, if not more so.

"That's right. You don't have a choice."

Draco reached out for Harry's robes and swiftly divested the brunet of them, revealing a very shocked Harry Potter underneath. In his red and gold sweater that must have been one of Molly Weasley's creations that Draco had heard notoriously about, Harry looked shell-shocked and maybe even a little frightened.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?"

The Gryffindor knew what he must have looked like to Draco: scared and innocent, regarding the blond as if he was Draco's prey. Harry was scared, but not because he didn't like what Draco was doing. To say the least, Harry was not sexually experienced or romantically inclined. This was new territory for him aside from the disastrous kiss with Cho Chang and Ginny's persistent efforts to molest him. This was different because Harry _wanted _Draco to touch him but he was still guarded about the blond's true motives behind his actions. As much as Harry tried to suppress the nagging voice of warning that squealed at him to run the other way from Draco, Harry could not help but be smitten with the blond.

"Relax, Potter," Draco murmured.

Harry pursed his lips the second he felt Draco's surprising strong hands on him, finding purchase in the smoothness of Harry's skin underneath his jumper. Long, uneven breaths slipped past Harry's lips as Draco caressed his sides, leisurely stroking along his torso. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco's ministrations were relaxing and felt better than what he had anticipated. His eyelids drifted shut as the jumper was forced around his shoulders, exposing his chest and stomach to Draco's curious fingertips. The coolness of the wall had the Gryffindor consequently arching into Draco, away from the unpleasantly cold stone.

"Good boy," Draco whispered, reveling in the sight before him.

It didn't take much it seemed to get Harry to calm down and allow Draco to have his way with him. This restored some of Draco's diminishing confidence and rekindled Draco's persistence to get what he wanted: Harry.

As Draco's thumb flicked across one of Harry's nipples for the second time, Draco grinned madly at the little strangled sound that came from Harry who was clearly attempting to suppress any encouragement. Not that Draco needed any encouragement since the growing bulge in Harry's trousers was more than enough to spur the Slytherin on. Settling one knee in between Harry's parted thighs, Draco began to pull the offending jumper out of his way and over Harry's head, tousling his already ridiculously messy hair further. Draco caught the moan from beneath him when his knee nudged the apex of Harry's thighs that had parted to let Draco in.

Nuzzling his neck, Draco glided his hands up and down Harry's sides before he splayed his fingers across Harry's chest, getting drunk off the utter masculinity in his grasp. Quidditch had evidently served its purpose and only intensified Draco's already undying love for the sport. His body displayed the same toned and defined qualities as Harry's, but it was so different and foreign to feel someone else's flesh.

Seeing the Gryffindor half naked, Draco realized that there were more differences between them physically than he thought. Where Draco was tall and lean, Harry was average in height and broader in his chest as well as shoulders. His muscles were more defined while Draco's were toned. Harry's skin immediately enthralled him since it appeared a stark contrast to the porcelain that marked the Malfoy family. The brunet's skin was tanned but surprisingly smooth, marred with several scars from Quidditch and no doubt his numerous heroic excursions.

If Harry didn't know better, he could have sworn that Draco was practically worshipping his body, taking his time to caress ever inch of Harry's arms and torso until the blond's fingers fell on the waistband of Harry's pants.

"These are dreadful," Draco murmured. "I think I'll have to take them off."

For a second, Harry thought that he would speak but he ultimately decided strongly against it because nothing comprehendible would have presented itself. What he was feeling was nothing like he had ever experienced before. Harry was used to people ogling him and worshipping him but the reverence that Draco displayed was something Harry could have never prepared himself for.

For the past few minutes, Harry had settled his gaze on the shoulders, which were directly over Draco's right shoulder. His breath caught somewhere in his throat when he heard the sound of his zipper open, Draco's hand pressing unnecessarily harder against him. There was no way he could have met Draco's molten eyes as he undressed him. His breath stayed where it was when his trousers hit the floor because he had just remembered what boxer briefs he had decided to wear that morning. Now, his curiosity got the better of him and he sneaked a peak at the Slytherin's face, wondering what he would think of the sight before him.

"Where did you get those?" Draco questioned evenly, amusement progressively coming to the surface of his features.

"They were a gift."

"I thought no one knew."

"They were a _gag_ gift."

"I would love to gag you with those, Potter," Draco purred with his smirk still plastered across his face.

"I'll take them off," Harry offered, hooking his thumbs into the waistband.

It was then that Harry realized the true extent of his embarrassment. He would have rather stood naked in front of Draco Malfoy than have Draco stare at him for another moment with his rainbow striped boxer briefs.

"You never struck me as the 'gag me' type."

"I'm not," Harry replied slowly, obviously confused.

Draco waved his hand dismissively at him and said, "Leave them on then. They won't be a problem."

"They will," he insisted.

"There's no trouble, Potter. I think they're very festive and appropriate."

"Yes, I had that in mind when I put them on this morning," Harry muttered darkling. "I figured it was the best way to get laid."

"Is that what you think is going on here?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure how the answer since he couldn't read the expression on Draco's face. He made a mental note to study expressions a lot better when he had the time though he was sure that no matter how hard he tried, he would never completely understand all the language of Draco's face.

"Maybe."

"What makes you think that I'm not going to strip you naked and leave you here for all and sundry to find you?"

"That doesn't really benefit you much," Harry reasoned, hoping his deepest fears weren't about to come true.

"True. I would much rather take advantage of the situation another way."

Any moment, Draco expected an award for his restraint. He had just volleyed flirtations back and forth with Harry for the past what had to be five minutes while completely curtailing the overwhelming desire to molest Harry on the spot, who was practically naked save for the Pride boxer briefs that left little to Draco's imagination. The tip of Draco's pink tongue peaked out and trailed across his own lip as gazed down at Harry's arousal without shame, sending heat straight to Harry's cheeks. The brunet would have folded his arms over his chest or possibly blocked the tent that he had currently pitched, but Draco had thought ahead and held his arms to his sides by his wrists.

"Why would you try and cover something like _that_ up?"

"It's not something I care to parade around."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Draco stopped himself from making a joke about parades and Harry's boxer briefs. It was too easy. Much like how all of this had come about. Doubt flared across his face before he quickly concealed it, instantly thankful that Harry was embarrassedly looking everywhere but Draco's face. The only reason why Harry was even in the state that was in was because Draco was blackmailing him, Draco reasoned. Harry was doing this because he was afraid of the threatened consequences. This wasn't the way that Draco wanted it to be but he knew that if it hadn't been for the blackmail, Draco would have never gotten the chance to see Harry like this. It unfortunately made Draco even more driven and certain that what he was doing was necessary, that there was no alternative.

"Malfoy…" Harry began, eyeing the Slytherin when his long fingers tugged at the waistband of Harry's boxer briefs.

"Quiet, Potter."

Draco hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh because despite what he knew Harry thought, he wanted this to be enjoyable for Harry as well. Snapping at the Gryffindor wouldn't help the situation. Glancing from Harry's at-attention erection, Draco say the hurt lace through Harry's green eyes. As much as Draco wanted to roll his eyes at the other boy's sensitivity, it was one of the many things that attracted Draco to Harry, aside from the obvious that nudged his hip when he moved in closer.

When his hands slid up from the Harry's waist, Draco could immediately some of Harry's tension recede. It never really occurred to Draco to take things slow because it was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. But Draco felt the compulsion to make Harry enjoy what he was about to do to him in hopes that it would change things and them as well.

Draco placed open mouth kisses on the inside of Harry's throat, faintly feeling the other boy's erratic pulse beneath his lips. His tongue darted out to trace Harry's prominent collarbone as his hands grasped Harry by his hips, holding him against him, wanting Harry to feel all of Draco.

As Draco's mouth repeated the same actions on the other side of Harry, Harry's mind was torn between rationalizing the situation and completely succumbing to the sensations crowding his mind. He withheld a groan that was beating against his mouth to get out when Draco licked around the shell of his ear and caught the lobe in between his teeth. There was no point denying that Harry took pleasure in every caress from the Slytherin because it was painfully apparent that Harry was turned on. He could feel another bulge against his own and found it hard to believe that anything could feel as good as what Draco was doing with his clever mouth.

His rationale took the backburner when Draco's hands reached around and grabbed him by his behind to grind their hips together. It seemed futile for Harry to even bother trying to stop Draco because he didn't want him to stop. Ever. If Draco was using him, he figured he would deal with it later and deny anything the blond repeated. Everything felt too good to stop and Harry's hormones were kicking in on overdrive.

Out of nowhere, Harry felt a sudden loss of heat and opened his eyes that he didn't even realize were closed. A moment ago, Draco had been standing before him, looking as smug as ever though visibly distracted by Harry's lack of clothing. Now, the blond appeared on his knees as he grasped Harry's hips, his fingers painfully digging into the flesh found there. The sight was almost too much to take for Harry. Never would he have ever dreamed of this happening and he hoped that what ever happened, he wouldn't screw it up.

One of Harry's hands naturally fell on Draco's shoulder while the other stroked his blond locks. Harry's breaths were uneven with anticipation and he could have sworn that he felt the Slytherin smirk into his skin before he nipped his just above his navel with his teeth. Draco's hands gradually eased Harry's remaining garment down his legs and chucked them aside after Harry stepped out of them.

Harry's eyes were glued to Draco, waiting for his next move despite the fact that Draco seemed quite content to stare at Harry's erection that was mere inches from his mouth. Watching as Draco noticeably swallowed, Harry's fingers drummed nervously against Draco's shoulder, prompting Harry to realize that while he was now naked, the blond was still fully clothed. It would have to wait, Harry figured, because it seemed that Draco had more important things on his mind than his state of dress.

There wasn't a better feeling in the world when Draco wrapped one hand around Harry's erection and his mouth around its head. Draco's eyes flashed up when he heard what sounded like Harry's head connecting with the wall. Sure enough, the brunet's face was to the ceiling but Draco could still see the utter arousal and heard Harry's approval tumbling from his parted mouth.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry groaned.

Encouraged by the little noises that Harry was failing at suppressing, Draco flicked his tongue against the underside of Harry's cock while giving a repeated slight twist of his wrist as it moved up and down Harry's length. Draco smiled around Harry's arousal, which was in as far as it could go, because he was relieved that the Gryffindor was rather easy to please and didn't expect much. There was nothing more irritating than someone with expectations and Draco was quite sick of it though he knew he always measured it. It was simply unnecessary stress that took away from the moments like the one he was having now. Luckily for Draco, Harry appeared to be happy that someone's mouth was on him let alone what exactly he was doing with said mouth.

Harry sighed as cool area caressed his exposed and wet flesh when Draco withdrew only to lick from root to tip and swallow Harry practically whole. Both of Harry's hands held tight to Draco's tousled mane, afraid that if he let go, the blond would stop and realize what he was doing. The Slytherin, thankfully, made no indication that he would stop.

Sweat gathered along the back of Harry's neck and hairline but when he searched for signs of physical excursion in Draco, he found none. Apparently, Malfoys don't perspire and Harry recalled Draco babbling about something like that a year ago. It also looked as if Malfoys don't have gag reflexes. Although it was only a thought, Harry's distracted mind saw it as a challenge in dire need of conquering. Gathering more of the soft blond hair into his hand, Harry held Draco's head in place while thrusting deep into Draco's mouth. Surprise was quickly replaced with unabashed lust and Harry released a stream of profane phrases as Draco continued to take his callous ministrations.

The Slytherin had to admit that he was very shocked when Harry took the reigns and demonstrated that he wasn't always such a prude. It never occurred to him that Harry would like it a bit rough not that he minded one bit. He was definitely pleased since it opened up possibilities that the Slytherin probably would not have dreamt of with the Gryffindor. Although Draco loved that Harry was fucking his mouth into oblivion, he couldn't help but wonder how long the other boy could possibly last. His lips were starting to go numb and his jaw was getting that painful ache. He decided that it was time to push Harry a little further to move things along.

Trailing one hand from Harry's backside around and up his chest, Draco grinned to himself when Harry took the hint of his outstretched finger resting on Harry's chest, begging to be sucked. The feeling of Harry's wet hot mouth sliding up and down Draco's finger went straight to his groin. He could feel the wet spot in his trousers that grew each time Harry groaned or lapped at Draco's finger with his tongue. His clothes were merely an inconvenience though his cock, fighting to break free of his trousers, begged to differ. He was considerably warm and the fact that Harry acted as a furnace in his spare time didn't help his condition either.

Draco withdrew his finger from Harry's lips, still enthralled by Draco's ceaselessly wet mouth to even register the movements of Draco's hands. The hand that had been on Harry's arse cheek the entire time cupped the flesh beneath his touch and parted it from its twin. The finger that Harry had been sucking on traced the outside of Harry's hole leisurely as if some sort of protest was imminent. When just the tip eased in, Harry's breath caught in his throat and he tensed, not expecting the sudden intrusion.

Having been in this situation before, Draco knew that Harry was bound to freak at the sudden discomfort. Since he had been in similar situations when he couldn't talk, because releasing the cock in his mouth wasn't an option, Draco had learned to speak with his eyes. As Harry's alarmed emerald eyes glistened down at him, Draco told him to relax with a look. Of course it was easier said than done. With his somewhat free hand, Draco massaged Harry's lower back, hoping that it would help and that the thick – in more ways than one – Gryffindor would get the picture. Although Draco was rather fond of insulting Harry's intelligence, it appeared the inexperienced young man got the picture and visibly tried to relax, evenly breathing in and out.

Catching the slight wince each time his finger thrust back in, Draco allowed Harry's cock to slip from his mouth before he uttered something under his breath too softly for Harry to hear. A long, solid moan came from Harry's parted lips as soon as he felt the lubrication charm begin to work. Draco watched Harry's face contort with pleasure as he added another finger inside of Harry.

Harry stroked the mussed up hair beneath his fingertips, hoping that Draco would forgive him later for what a mess he had made. When Draco took Harry's straining erection back into his mouth, Harry knew it wouldn't take him much longer to finish. The feelings he experienced were so incredible that he didn't want it to stop but knew that he had to accept that Draco couldn't suck his cock for eternity.

"Draco?" Harry said, his voice quivering, wondering if the other boy would actually let him to what he was dying to do.

Of course Draco knew exactly what the Gryffindor was so kindly asking and he figured he would ignore his question, letting it surprise him when he got what he wanted. He had to admit that he was pleased that Harry had tried to ask permission to come in his mouth since most guys simply assumed that he was okay with it. Well, as Draco began to realize, Harry Potter was definitely not most guys. He was better, even if he was somewhat inept due to his lack of experience.

As Draco mulled over what it would be like to teach Harry everything he knew, he didn't notice that said boy was about to have the orgasm of his life in Draco's mouth. His mind skidded to a halt when he felt Harry clamp down around his fingers and his cock throb against his tongue. A second later, Draco swallowed what was given to him, grateful that he hadn't been taken by surprise. Harry still clutched Draco's shoulders tightly and panted heavily as Draco withdrew himself, attempting to stand up gracefully. It was excellent timing for Draco to catch himself as he wobbled on his abused knees because Harry was running his hands over his face, his head back against the wall again.

"Holy shite," came Harry's muffled reply. "I think you should do that for a living."

Draco snorted and brushed off his robes, displeased that he had managed to get them dirty even if it was worth it.

"Prostitution isn't as accepted by Wizards as it is with Muggles," Draco responded distantly, picking bits of hair off of his sleeves.

"It's not accepted by Muggles," Harry protested quickly.

"That's not what I heard."

"Well, you would fit in nicely if it was."

Meeting Harry's flushed face with his cool grey eyes, Draco took a step into Harry's space, instantly loving that Harry's body stiffened in response. It didn't quite surprise him that Harry was clearly neglecting to take care of Draco's problem that was now pressing into Harry's upper thigh. It was exactly what he had expected from Harry Potter, the Boy Who Only Thought of Himself.

"Potter, I'm aware you're not quite _experienced_ with this sort of situation, but I assure you that it's not best to call the person who just sucked you off a 'whore,' especially if you ever want it to happen again."

A smirk adjusted itself on Draco's face as he watched Harry blink at him for a moment while he thought of what to say.

"Maybe I don't want it to happen again."

Draco anticipated that response since it seemed most likely something that Harry would try and insult him with.

"You'll be hard pressed to find someone with the same kind of talent that I have, Potter."

Suddenly, Harry smiled as something just dawned on him. If he didn't know any better, it sounded as if Draco was trying to convince him to let things happen between them again.

"You're going to have to do better than that to convince me."

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything."

To Harry's disappointment, the erection that had been pressing into his thigh seemed to have disappeared. It was a bit of a relief, however, because Harry would not have had a clue what to do with it. Maybe worship it. Yes. That sounded like an excellent plan until it would blow up in his face when Draco found someone better to fuck.

"You really shouldn't flatter yourself, you know. You're a dime a dozen. There are plenty other virgin arses in this school, begging for it. Don't think you're anything special."

The hurt must have clearly showed on Harry's face because Draco's smirk intensified before he turned on his heel to leave. It occurred to Harry then what a sight he must have been, standing there flushed and naked. He sighed as he heard Draco's retreating footsteps and the slamming of the change room doors. Plucking his clothing off the ground, Harry slowly put them on and decided that there was no point going to class for the day since his second of the morning had already started and it was double Potions with the Slytherins.

Walking out of the changing room, Harry glanced down the hallway where Draco would have likely been a minute ago, heading back up into the castle. He wasn't really sure what had just happened between them and he wasn't exactly excited to find out what it meant.


	7. FML

**Disclaimer:** Not mine and you know it. If that doesn't suffice, see the previous chapter's disclaimer.

**Rating:** G

**A/N:** Yeah, it's a tad OOC but that's the way I like it. Plus, it makes things more dramatic and therefore, entertaining. Hope you enjoy and thank you again for all the reviews!

FML: fuck my life. No infringement intended on the website, which I do recommend people see if they need a few good laughs.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: FML**

Spread-eagle on his tiny twin size bed, Harry had been laying there for hours, mulling over what had happened that morning. The current tent is his pajama bottoms gave evidence to his thoughts, but Harry wasn't reminiscing for the sake of arousal, but for a different reason entirely. Something seemed missing during his encounter with Draco and Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it. Of course the whole experience was rather odd to begin with but that wasn't it. Draco was clothed the entire time. Problem yes, but it wasn't what was nagging Harry. For an hour or so, Harry thought that it was the fact that Draco hadn't come that was bothering him but he didn't have the 'ah ha!' moment that he had been anticipating.

Staring up at the canopy of his four poster bed, Harry was not only frustrated mentally but also physically because his cock couldn't take much more of the recollecting. He sighed heavily for what must have been the hundredth time that evening, or now morning as his clock pointed out to him. The prospect of sleep was completely abandoned and had been long ago since it appeared that this took longer than Harry expected.

It was times like this that Harry wished that he could talk to Ron and Hermione, and if not, someone. It's not like he could talk to Draco about it because there was no way that the blond would even consider having a real conversation with him, let alone one that involved the two of them and what happened, and there was absolutely no way that Harry could look at the other young man in the eyes again or for, well, a really long time. He missed having personal conversations with his two closest friends and now it seemed like they never had any. Ron and Hermione were always involved with one another, and Harry had been off sneaking around finding illegal goods before wandering down to the Quidditch changing room to get serviced by none other than the Prince of Darkness, Draco Malfoy himself.

Suddenly, Harry bolted upright, breathing hard with the excitement of his abrupt revelation. Of course as soon as Harry had stopped thinking about it directly it came to him. He was disappointed that he hadn't tried that tactic earlier because he probably could have gotten some sleep if he had.

"That git," Harry hissed softly, aware that he had not cast a Silencing charm despite that it was very unlikely that any of his roommates could hear him judging by their snores. "He didn't even kiss me!"

It had definitely occurred to Harry during their romp that he wanted to feel Draco's undeniably delicious lips beneath his own. As Harry thought about it, the blond had had plenty of time to lay one on him even though his mouth had been preoccupied with another part of Harry's body for the majority of their time. He wondered why Draco hadn't even tried to kiss him. Was he bad it? Very unlikely. He was talking about the whore of whores of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. That would have been impossible. Maybe Harry's breath smelt bad and the Slytherin didn't want to come near him. Also doubtful, Harry mused since he had never really been close to Draco for him to tell unless it was so unbelievably rank that it could be detected from across the room. In the midst of his confusion, even Harry could utterly discredit that one. Maybe like dating, Draco didn't do kissing. That seemed probable because Harry considered kissing very intimate in a completely different way than say giving head. As Harry's mind began to wander, he realized that this could not have been the case at all. On several occasions, Harry had caught Draco making out after hours with different people each time.

It was then that Harry came to the undeniable conclusion that he was un-kissable. His brief and poorly planned stint with Cho Chang back in fifth year was disastrous. Cho had used him and even aside from that, the kiss was gross. Harry felt nothing save for Cho's tears that turned the kiss sloppy. And Ginny was a similar situation in that Harry felt nothing exception for revulsion. Basically, girls wanted to kiss Harry for various different reasons that usually revolved around some sort of selfish aim, whether it was to get closer to someone else or to become associated with the legendary Boy Who Lived. Given the most recent piece of evidence, boys did not want to make out with said boy despite the boy's sexual preference for males. If Harry had to sum everything it up, he was sure that he could do it in three words: 'fuck my life'.

Exhausted, Harry settled back down into bed and tried to relax. This was obviously something that he needed to sort out with Draco because as much as he could try and figure it out, the results would all be observations. Content with the idea that he would have answers hopefully later that day, Harry tossed and turned for another hour before finally falling into a restless sleep that consumed him until Ron shook him awake when his alarm failed to rouse him.

Half in a daze, Harry stumbled towards the bathroom and emerged clean but still groggy twenty minutes later. He cast a sidelong look at Ron who was sitting on the edge of his bed putting on his socks slowly, clearly waiting for Harry. Sensing the need to hurry, especially after he saw the time, Harry threw an outfit together before pulling his robes on and smoothing out the wrinkles to no avail.

"There you two are," Hermione chastised.

"Good morning, 'Mione," replied Ron, descending the last couple of stairs quicker than Harry so that he could greet his girlfriend with a quick peck on the lips.

"We better hurry or else Neville will have ate all the porridge like he did last time we were late."

Harry nodded while yawning and followed his two friends out of the mouth of the portrait. As the three of them walked to the Great Hall, they caught up with Neville and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean. Despite their large number, Hermione noticed that Harry was a step behind everyone, too busy rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses to keep up. She pursed her lips and frowned, wondering what could have possibly kept her friend from sleeping.

Like every other morning, the Gryffindors arranged themselves according around the food, Neville and Ron the first to dive in to the hot dishes that awaited them. With curious eyes, Hermione watched Harry who didn't seem to notice his friend's inquisitive stare. He tried to look preoccupied with pouring maple syrup over his pancakes but he knew that someone was watching him, he just couldn't tell if it was Draco or not.

"Don't you think Harry looks just dreadful?" whispered Hermione into Ron's ear, never taking her eyes off of their friend.

This morning had been different in that Harry decided to sit across from Ron and Hermione, his back conveniently to the Slytherin table. It was strategic move that Harry figured would pay off. He was not visibly snubbing Draco who was burning a hole in the back of his skull with the heat from his stare. Harry knew that there was no way avoiding Draco would get the results that he wanted. He would acknowledge him briefly before returning to what ever it was that he was doing, as if Draco didn't matter at all. When the Golden Trio walked into the Great Hall with their Gryffindor entourage, Draco's eyes flashed up from his porridge to settle on Harry, who despite his best efforts looked like he hadn't slept a wink. Nonchalantly, Harry stared at the Slytherin to the point when it was considered rude before focusing on Ron, his expression emotionless.

"I can hear you," Harry grumbled.

"So you're not a zombie."

"I could sleep is all."

"Nightmares?"

"Didn't sound like you were having nightmares," Ron piped up.

"You could hear me?" Harry's voice must have sounded a bit panicked because Ron frowned at him slightly before answering.

"That's the thing; I _didn't_ hear you. Normally I do when you have nightmares."

"Oh," Harry replied stupidly. "No nightmares. Just couldn't get to sleep. I guess I have too much on my mind these days."

"We're here to listen," Hermione offered, settling her hand over top of Harry's. "You know that, don't you, Harry?"

"It's nothing, really. It happens sometimes."

"I never have trouble sleeping," Ron responded smugly.

"Well, it happens to most people who don't sleep like the dead."

"You've been acting kind of strange the past couple of weeks."

Harry mentally sighed. He could always could on Hermione to upfront and blunt, as well as nosy. Although he was touched that she cared so much about him, he definitely wanted to be left alone even if he could have used a friend last night. In the end, it turned out that he hadn't needed on because he had figured it out for himself.

"I don't think so," Ron said, looking at Hermione.

"That's because you're self-absorbed, Ronald."

"Hermione, I'm fine."

"I really wish you would talk to us. We're supposed to be your best friends and here you are keeping secrets from us. Just yesterday you told us you have a girlfriend and we've never even met her. Wait, did you two have a fight? Is she trying to get you to do things you're not comfortable doing? If she's pressuring you, Harry, you need to tell her that you're not okay with it. Not everyone is ready at this age."

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione. Calm down a second. What're you blabbering on about? What she could be possibly pressuring me into doing that I wouldn't want to do?"

It was probably one of the few times that Harry had seen Hermione at a loss for words or at least a time when she had to carefully select how she was going to phrase what she was about to say. It was then that Harry caught on to what exactly she was talking about because she only ever hesitated when it came to delicate subjects and this was definitely turning into one.

"Well, you don't have any experience sexually and I thought that since this is your first relationship and probably not hers that she might have a few expectations that you're not ready to meet."

"And how do you know that I have no experience?"

Harry had, after all, received a blowjob the morning before. That was experience, right?

"It's common knowledge, Harry. You've been a hot topic since third year with every girl in our house. So far, Cho and Ginny have been the only ones to offer up any information. Up until yesterday, most of the girls were beginning to think you're gay."

Harry could tell that Hermione tried to say it as lightly as possible. The pity in her tone, however, unnerved Harry the most.

"Would there be a problem if I was?"

"But you're not mate because you've got a girlfriend," Ron replied, a goofy grin on his face.

"Or maybe Harry lied and it's boyfriend, Ron."

"'Mione, listen to yourself. You just called Harry a liar."

"I wouldn't disapprove, if that's what you're worried about," she continued, never taking her eyes off of the brunet.

Suddenly, Harry wished that he could simply disappear or run or just flee to France. All three sounded fantastic at the moment because the last thing he wanted to be doing was have this conversation with his two closest friends.

"Ron feels the same way too, don't you Ron?"

That her voice rose as if she was asking a question was merely out of politeness. Hermione nudged her boyfriend in the ribs covertly and waited for the confirmation. This was a conversation that the two of them had had before but had never told Harry about and weren't about to. It was a tender topic for Ron because he was still not willing to even consider the idea that his best male friend could be homosexual.

"Um, right. But Harry's not, so why are we even talking about this. Hey, you never mentioned your girl's name yesterday, or at least I don't think you did. What is it again, mate?"

"No, I, uh, didn't mention it before because, um, she's not exactly…well…real."

"I knew it." Hermione smirked triumphantly and conspiratorially.

"That doesn't mean he's," Ron paused and looked around before continuing to say, "_gay_."

"Would it bother you, Ron?"

"Oh my god, you are, aren't you?" exclaimed Ron, jumping up out of his seat.

The second outburst from Gryffindor table two days in a row must have been a record, especially since both had pertained to Harry's sex life. The hall was quiet save for a few murmurs here and there. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry noticed Draco's eyes sparkled in amusement.

"Ron, sit down," Hermione hissed, her hand resting on Ron's arm, trying to pull him down. "This isn't everyone's business."

"And it's really none of yours," Harry muttered, heat burning his ears and the back of his neck.

Harry began to stand up to leave since he didn't want to deal with the sight of the fuming Weasley in front of him but said person appeared to have the opposite idea in mind.

"Are you going to answer me, Harry? Are you or are you not gay?"

The collective gasp that vibrated off the hall's walls was something for the history books as well as film. It deafened Harry's ears and made his eyes narrow at his friend. It appeared that everything in his life was doomed to become public, one way or another, and that there was no such thing as secrets for Harry James Potter.

"Sod off, Ron," Harry replied.

"So you are then."

"I didn't think it was something that would matter to you."

"Ugh! I can't _believe_ that you have been keeping this from us! How long have you been lying to everyone? Who's your real boyfriend?"

"I haven't been lying to anyone. Everyone else has come up with their own conclusions for me without even bothering to check and see if they're right. I thought you were my friend, Ron. How could you do this to me and like this?" Harry whispered the last part so no one could hear except for the few around them.

"Friends don't keep secrets from one another so I guess we haven't been friends for some time, huh Harry?"

"I can't believe this," Harry answered, shaking his head.

Stepping away from the Gryffindor table, Harry could feel the entire hall's eyes on his back as he retreated. He listened for anyone coming after but it didn't surprise him when he heard only silence. Between yesterday and today, Harry had provided entertainment during breakfast and since everyone came in threes, he wondered what tomorrow would be like.

Since he missed most of his classes yesterday, there was absolutely no way that Harry could miss today's and he accepted his fate with dread. It meant that during Potions he would definitely have to remain with the Slytherins, which wasn't anything new since Draco and he had a project together that was due soon. The remainder of his classes would be torture since they were with Ron and Hermione, either together or separate.

He kicked a pebble and listened to it bounce as he stuffed his hands into his pockets underneath his robes. This year was proving itself to be more difficult than defeating Voldemort. Not only was he being blackmailed, but Ron was no longer speaking to him and his friendship with Hermione was likely jeopardized as well. As he thought about it though, Draco now had no grounds to blackmail Harry with because nothing was worse than what had just happened. It was doubtful that Draco would ever confess to sucking him off though this information would upset Ron even further.

As much as he could rejoice in that he could no longer be blackmailed, Harry sulked the entire way to the Astronomy Tower where he retreated until Divination started in twenty minutes.

It went without saying that Divination had been as awkward as it could get since it was Harry and Ron's first class of the day. The two boys had sat on opposite sides of the room of one another, both making sure to avoid any eye contact. Harry, however, could have sworn that he caught Ron examining him but he became distracted when Professor Trelawney predicted that something horrible was going to happen to one of the students, though her eyes were on Harry intently.

Once class was dismissed, Harry bolted for the door since he was closest and descended the Astronomy Tower at a pace that would have made Madame Hooch proud. Gripping his books tightly and watching his feet so that he wouldn't trip, Harry didn't see the body approaching him on the remaining stairs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell back, his books askew and his head connecting with a gut-wrenching thud on the stone stairs.


	8. We're Here We're Queer Get Used to it

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapter.

**Rating:** G

**A/N:** Woooooww, what a response and I'm glad to see it! Thanks for the support and ideas. Much love.

This chapter is dedicated to both amber v and Alex for giving me ideas.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: We're Here. We're Queer. Get Used to it.**

If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought that a drumming band set up in his once peaceful head to practice twenty-four-seven. Despite the oddities of and the practicality of almost anything happening in the Wizarding world, Harry knew that there was no marching band, just a migraine that throbbed from the back of his skull to in between his eyes. The pillow that someone had placed behind his head cushioned the pain and Harry could only imagine the kind of potions that Madame Pomphrey would drug him with once he was lucid.

"Easy, Harry," a familiar voice said.

Familiar in that Harry heard it every time he was injured, which was quite a lot because of Quidditch, especially after a game with the Slytherins.

"Draco," Harry answered hoarsely before swallowing with difficulty.

"He brought you here. He's refused to move an inch," she said with a hushed voice, glancing over her shoulder to indicate to the boy. Harry could only make out his shockingly blond head of hair, tilted forward as if in sleep.

"What can you do for me for this headache?"

"When you're more alert, I want you to take each of these," she began, fingering four little vials of various colors, "and then rest, Mr. Potter. You're concussed and the last thing I need is for you to slip into a coma."

"I'll watch him," offered a soft voice from behind her.

"See that you do."

And with that, Madame Pomphrey saw herself out, leaving the two rivals together without supervision.

"What did you hit me with?" Harry asked, trying to make the situation lighter than what it felt. "Your ego?"

"If I had, you'd still be unconscious, Potter."

"Probably a good thing you didn't then."

Sighing softly, since anymore effort would have hurt his head, Harry eased himself back against the pillows and closed his eyes, wondering when he had started to trust Draco not to smother him with his own pillow when he was so vulnerable. A moment later, Harry cringed with the sound of the chair scratching against the floor but eased on the cool touch he felt on his forehead. Draco's soft fingertips brushed one of the many stray strands of Harry's hair out of his eyes and then coaxed the rest to settle into something manageable.

"Feel guilty for running me over?" Harry murmured.

"You're the one who ran into me, you clumsy fool," Draco replied gently, though Harry could still feel a bit of the heat in his words.

"Not intentionally. I didn't want Ron to catch up."

"Yes, that was quite the spectacle this morning, wasn't it?"

"You saw."

"Potter, all of Hogwarts saw that show. I think even the centaurs heard the whole bloody thing from the Forbidden Forest. I'll have to admit that Weasley has quite the set of pipes. It's a shame they don't sound better than nails on a chalkboard."

"He's so mad," Harry groaned.

"He'll get over himself eventually."

"Since when have you been so nice?"

"You're mistaking my genuine kindness for charity, Potter. The Malfoy name doesn't need any more slander than it's already getting, no thanks to you."

"Maybe you're father shouldn't have taken the Dark Mark then."

"Maybe," Draco murmured.

The fingers in Harry's hair moved down to Harry's chin where Draco's index finger traced lazily along his jawbone several times. Harry felt the bed shift as Draco sat down on the edge before Harry had the chance to accommodate him.

"So I guess I don't have to worry about you blackmailing me anymore."

"And why would you think that?"

"Well, everyone knows my secret now."

"I need that egg, Potter."

"What for?"

"I said no questions."

"You're really not in a position to be making demands."

"I think you're confused again, considering you're the one who's concussed and bedridden."

"So now you're going to threaten me?"

"I'll do what ever it takes."

"I don't understand why –"

"That's exactly it: you don't understand and you wouldn't even if I told you."

"Why don't you try me and we'll see?"

"It doesn't work that way. You know, I actually have to work for who and what I want in this life, Potter. It's not just dropped into my lap like everything is for you, despite what you may think. My mother is hysterical and my father is in Azkaban. I may as well be an orphan."

"So you think some potion is going to make your life right? Get you what you want or who you want?" Harry paused for a moment before everything seemed to fall into place. "You're making a love potion?"

"That's ridiculous."

"So ridiculous you would do it."

Draco withdrew his hand from Harry's face and let it fall into his lap where is other rested. He turned his head away from Harry just in case he could see the flush in the blond's cheeks from embarrassment and shame.

"Do you really think anyone wants to be with a Death Eater's son, let alone a Malfoy?"

"What're you talking about? You have people drool over you all the time."

"They want my body, Potter. It's purely temporary and they're cured once my cock is up their arse. In truth, I've never even had a boyfriend before."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Well, that was a dumb thing to say, Harry thought, but he couldn't take it back. He was definitely curious as to why Draco was telling him so much about him since he never uttered more than an insult or a threat to Harry every since he refused to take the other boy's hand back in first year.

"Because you're going to be so drugged up in five minutes that you'll question yourself later if I really told you this or if it was simply a dream."

"So who's the potion for anyways?"

"Now that I am definitely not telling you."

Harry's eyes roamed over Draco's lithe form that was slightly slouched forward. He desperately wanted the Slytherin to lay down with him since there was easily enough room for the both of them.

"Lie down with me?"

Grey eyes flashed in Harry's direction, causing his breath to seize somewhere in his throat. It seemed like an innocent request, especially when Harry recalled the last position the two of them had been when alone. Draco and Harry would, however, have to be very close to one another if Draco did decide to lie down, not that Harry minded at all if Draco spooned him. A little bolt of desire raced through him and for a moment he believed that Draco had seen it. Maybe he had and that's why he was gently pushing Harry over to make room for himself.

Gingerly, Harry rolled half onto his right side and then eased back against Draco's solid chest when the blond finished settling in behind him. With nowhere else to put his arms, Draco wrapped them around Harry and tucked his chin into Harry's neck. Although Harry knew that there was no possible way that Draco wanted to have his arms around him, he pretended that this was so and relished in it while he had him this way.

"This is nice," Harry said softly, turning his head to look at Draco in the eyes.

"Merlin, you're partially comatose and you're still trying to get into my pants."

"I doubt you'd complain."

"And still as cocky."

"Well, this helps," Harry countered, rubbing back a little against the piece of Draco's flesh that seemed to be responding to him the most.

Draco's teeth sunk into the patch of skin that connected Harry's throat to his shoulder, while he shuddered and held tighter to Harry's fragile form. Since Draco had sunk to his knees on the Quidditch changing room floor, Draco could not get the seared imagine of Harry's cock in front of his face out of his head. He didn't want to. He couldn't stop thinking about the Gryffindor and it was the reason why Draco thanked the heavens when Harry ran into him, even if the brunet had be sprawled unconscious on the stone floor. It gave Draco the chance to talk to him because he knew that the blackmail was over and he would have no reason to talk to Harry anymore.

Harry stopped grinding back against Draco when something suddenly popped into his head, begging to be answered. Not that Harry was really expecting an answer even though it seemed like Draco was in the mood to provide personal information that most people had no idea about.

"Malfoy, why didn't you kiss me?"

"When?"

"The other day in the change rooms."

"I didn't realize it was a prerequisite to sucking your cock."

"It just seems like something someone should do if they're going to get that intimate with someone else."

"And is this someone disappointed that I didn't kiss him?"

Harry's heart did a funny little flip flop, skipping a beat or five. He wasn't sure what to say right then because either way, he knew he would blurt out something unintelligible or completely stupid. Deciding not to think – never a good idea – Harry said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Yes."

And then it was Draco's heart's turn to do an odd dance, one that it was no where near accustomed to performing though it didn't mind. The Slytherin for once in his life was at loss for words because what was coming out of Harry's mouth was exactly what he wanted to hear. Maybe he didn't need the potion after all and all he really needed to do was gather up some of courage and wounded pride so that he could ask Harry out. It was stretch, maybe even too hopeful and far.

Frowning at Draco's silence, Harry began to worry that he had said the wrong thing. Draco had stiffened behind him though another part of him seemed to grow even harder, pressing up against the bottom of Harry's behind.

"Would you like me to fix that?" Draco murmured against Harry's earlobe.

Harry would have groaned but he thought the vibrations would have split his head completely open. The blood in his head was pounding and he couldn't quite understand why since more blood should have been coursing down to his groin, which was tingling with arousal.

"Yes," Harry hissed.

The sudden hiss from Harry's exquisite mouth made Draco instantly lust-crazed, wondering if the brunet would treat him with some Parselmouth, Draco's hidden fetish. Draco began to lift himself up off the bed so that he could hover over Harry's prone form, careful not to disturb him. His lips were inches above the soft flesh of Harry's mouth and he was dying to hear the noise from him again.

"Again," Draco ordered huskily.

"What?"

He must have looked a little bewildered and confused because Draco chuckled throatily, making Harry feel like he had suddenly become the blond's prey. It probably wasn't far from the truth.

"I want to hear you speak in Parseltongue."

"You're such a Slytherin," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"And you're a cock tease."

The string of hisses that tumbled from Harry's lips were quickly saved by Draco's mouth, which caught Harry's tongue as it still writhed in speech. As a response, Draco groaned into Harry's mouth before biting the brunet's bottom lip. Another benefit of Parseltongue, aside from the fact that it sounded like sex to Draco's ears, was that it made Harry ridiculously skilled with his tongue, even if he was still virginal. Their lips were fit perfectly for one another, a fact Draco didn't let go unnoticed. Draco tasted like mint to Harry's tongue while the Gryffindor tried not to think what he must have tasted like since had had been unconscious for who knew how long. He took it as a good sign that Draco didn't pull away and was in fact clutching at him as if Harry was about to bolt.

The two young lovers were too busy with one another to notice that they were about to receive some company. The door to Harry's once private room swung up to reveal chatter and then shocked faces. A throat cleared, Harry and Draco separated with the latter leaping off the bed, which was a horrible idea because his arousal became very evident, and jaws dropped.

"So just when I begin to accept the first curveball, you decide to throw this at me next?" Ron started, advancing on Harry who was panting from the make out session and a looming panic attack.

"It wasn't what it looked like!" explained Draco.

Harry looked hurt, very hurt, and it wasn't from the concussion.

"I think it was exactly what it looked like, Malfoy. You were clearly taking advantage of Harry's concussed state and he was too weak to fend you off."

"Oh, Weasel, that's the best story you've come up with to date. Does it look like Harry didn't enjoy it?"

"So now you admit it was what it looked like!" exclaimed Ron, gesturing with his hands dramatically.

Meanwhile, Harry glanced over to the doorway to find Hermione leaning against the doorframe with a look of sheer amusement on her face. Clearly she found the whole situation hysterical because her laughter was threatening to bubble up and burst out of her at any moment. Harry had to agree that it was rather amusing to watch Ron tear into Draco over something so ridiculous. Oh well. On with the show.

"Oh, come on, Weasley! What else could it have possibly been?"

"Mouth to mouth resuscitation is likely."

"Yes, I've perfected the technique of resuscitation with my tongue. Wait until I show you my new take on the Heimlich maneuver."

"Don't include me in your perverted innuendos, you poof," Ron spat.

"Get over yourself. I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last pureblood on Earth."

"Well, it seems like you're fucking a Mudblood anyways so that doesn't mean much to me, Malfoy."

And for some odd reason, this bothered Draco more than he could understand. Before he knew what he was doing, he lunged at the redhead, grabbing him by the front of his robe and then slamming him up against the wall. This caught Hermione's attention, which was now on full alert, stepping a little closer to the arguing boys.

"Don't you _dare _talk like that about Harry," growled Draco, shoving Ron harder as he spoke. "Is this how you treat your friends, Weasel? I'd be surprised if you have any left after all this. Bear in mind that half of your mates are closet queers while another quarter is in denial."

"Put me down," Ron said deliberately slow and even.

Satisfied with what he had said, Draco released Ron and took a step back, listening to Hermione and Harry let out a breath each. There was a long pause that lasted several minutes. After Draco was content that Ron would think twice before speaking like that again, Draco sat on the chair that Harry had formerly found him on, waiting for someone to break the silence. It was during this time that Harry took his medication because he was definitely wide awake now.

"So is he your boyfriend, Harry?"

"I don't do relationships," Draco responded quickly, looking at Harry to challenge him.

"I guess not," Harry murmured.

A little pang in Draco's chest confused him, wondering why Harry's wounded look bothered him so much. Yes, he had feelings for the Gryffindor but it wasn't much more than lust, or so Draco reasoned. He refused to believe that he wanted some sort of heterosexual trapping that tainted the individuals, ruining anything initially decent. However, a part of him wanted to take back what he had said and make an exception to the rule, only for Harry.

"We haven't discussed it," Draco continued.

This lit up Harry's face a little, enough so that the brunet turned his head carefully to look at the Slytherin with his cool mask, hiding any emotion. Internally, he was giddy and squealing like a young girl.

"Maybe we should leave you two to do that," Hermione offered, resting her hand on Ron's forearm.

"Good idea, 'Mione."

"Thanks for stopping by, guys. It was good to see you," Harry said, smiling lightly.

"I didn't mean…" Ron trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. "It's a lot right now, mate."

"I know. It is for me too."

"We'll bring you some dinner later, okay Harry? Draco, would you like me to grab you something?" Hermione asked.

"I'm all right," he replied stiffly, rubbing his eyes as if tired.

Harry's two friends left with waves and smiles, a complete one eighty in comparison to ten minutes ago when Ron and Draco were at one another's throats. When he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, Harry followed the movement too quickly and groaned when his head protested. His gaze settled on Draco standing at the foot of his bed, his fingers toying with the sheets that covered Harry's feet.

"Where're you going?" Harry's voice was soft and vulnerable, a reflection of the way that he felt.

"I need to think."

"Malfoy –"

"Get some rest, Harry. You're no use to me in that condition."

Harry warmed a little at Draco's trademark smirk that tugged the one side of his mouth up, but all warmth was gone as he watched Draco leave, closing the door quietly behind him.


	9. Announcements

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapter.

**Rating:** PG-13

**A/N:** I think I need to start proof-reading because I just noticed a spelling mistake from last chapter that made me gasp out loud. I'm sorry to those that had to read it.

Thank you for all the reviews and ideas :)

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Announcements**

"If I could have everyone's attention for a moment, there is something I need to address," Dumbledore announced.

All four Houses sat quietly and watched their headmaster, anticipating his next words because Dumbledore very rarely interrupted breakfast and knew better than to do so since most of the students didn't wake up until second period.

"Lately, we have had several disturbances during meals, especially breakfast. As many of you already know, I'm not fond of rules, but it seems pertinent to deal with this problem as it is affecting the whole school, staff and students. So, hence forward, there are to be no personal discussions allowed during meal time if they escalate into arguments. Talking quietly amongst yourselves is encouraged. See to it that it doesn't disturb everyone else." Dumbledore paused to pointedly look at the Gryffindor table, settling his eyes on Harry and then Ron. "Now, let's eat!"

Once the heavy chatter picked up again and resounded throughout the hall, Harry groaned and hung his head to hide his embarrassment. Ron gave him a supporting pat on the back while Hermione simply chuckled, something she was fond of doing lately.

"You have to admit, Harry, that was coming sooner or later."

"He could have spoken to me privately," Harry grumbled.

"Well, it's something that applies to everyone."

Harry chanced a glance at the Slytherin table, wondering if Draco was enjoying his embarrassment as much as Hermione. His blond head was turned away as if he was completely engrossed in what ever it was that Blaise was prattling on about. Jealously surged through him. He couldn't help it. Draco had been avoiding him for three days now and Harry was wondering exactly how much thinking about their relationship, or lack there of, the blond was really doing. If anything, it seemed like Draco was thinking about being as far away from Harry as possible, not discovering a way of how they could be together.

The Slytherin hadn't even visited Harry again since their little accident though he was released the following morning after Draco had left. That he hadn't dropped dead must have been a sign that Harry was feeling as chipper as ever, which he definitely was not. Last night, Harry had endured quite the interrogation by Ron who wanted to know _everything_ about him and Draco. The only thing that Harry had left out was the dragon egg, which was a whole other issue for him. He was still curious to find out who it was that Draco wanted to use the potion on, but there was no way that he was going to be complacent anymore. The morning that Harry had been released from the infirmary he wrote Charlie a letter to notify him that Hagrid no longer needed the dragon's egg for some reason like Dumbledore had discovered what he was doing and deemed it too unsafe to have on school premises. It was the best that he could come up with on his own.

Peeking at the Slytherin table again, Harry caught Draco's silver eyes flash over him before they landed on someone else. Harry leaned forward in his seat, hoping to see around the numerous heads that blocked his view. Two seats down and across from Draco was a head of styled to be messy brown hair that Harry instantly recognized as Theodore Nott. Frowning, Harry looked back to Draco to find the blond smiling and laughing at something the other boy was saying.

"Great," Harry mumbled, sulking again into his plate of food.

"What's the matter, mate?"

"It's nothing."

"Does this have to do with Draco again?" Hermione wondered, lowering her voice so only her two close friends could hear.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What happened?"

Finding Draco amongst the table of Slytherins was rather easy, especially when the blond had his head thrown back in laughter while his hand thumped the table. Harry could have sworn that he was trying to make him jealous because he had never seen Draco so casual as this morning.

Ron and Hermione followed his gaze before they both simultaneously nodded knowingly.

"What did he do now?"

"He's flirting with Nott," Harry grumbled.

"Doesn't look like it," Ron interjected, peering over Neville's shoulder.

It was conversations like this that Harry was thankful that people generally left them alone. Some years ago, most of their House had simply accepted that the three friends preferred the company of one another to the whole table at meals. If they wanted to socialize, they would but they would usually be the ones to initiate it.

Both Hermione and Ron saw Theodore lean in closer to Draco, who reciprocated the action with a smirk on his face. It looked like the two didn't care about the people in between them as they conversed in what had to be low tones. Harry could tell something was going on since his friends were quiet as they stared forward somewhat obviously. He quickly decided that he definitely wanted to see what ever it was that his lover or whatever he was, was doing. As per usual, he had excellent timing and saw Theo reach for Draco's hand that had been on the table.

"What the fuck?" Harry burst, rather loudly.

"Dumbledore," Hermione hissed.

Harry eased back down in his seat, unaware that he had jumped up a little. No one seemed to notice his little outburst, save for Neville and Seamus who were both regarding him curiously.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Hermione said softly. "You don't know what they're saying."

"I bet they're talking about how big of an idiot I am," Harry offered, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "What's he doing now? I don't think I can look."

"Looks like Draco made room for Nott," Ron replied.

"What?"

Pansy and Draco had managed to squeeze Theo between them though it looked relatively cramped. Draco didn't seem to mind that he was shoulder to shoulder with the brunet who appeared to have little understanding of personal space, Harry thought.

"Nott, really?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Ron! There is nothing going on between Theo and Draco," Hermione insisted. "They're merely talking. That is, after all, what friends do."

"I don't talk to Harry like _that_," Ron responded, nodding to the pair two tables over.

Theo may as well have been in Draco's lap, for all that Harry cared, since the two were so close together. He couldn't tell where Draco's hands were and at that moment, he didn't want to know. He had seen enough.

"I'm out of here," Harry muttered.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Hermione asked, resting her hand on his arm as he stood up to leave.

"I think I need to take a walk."

If anything was going Harry's way, it was that it was a Saturday so he didn't need to worry about missing any more classes. It also meant that there was little chance of running into Draco who would no doubt be snogging Theo by noon by the looks of things.

As Harry headed out of the Hall, he glanced at the Slytherin table once more and found Draco watching him with a slight frown on his face. He didn't realize that he had stopped walking and was now simply regarding Draco, hurt blatantly plastered across Harry's face. The Gryffindor fled before he could see Draco shrug Theo off of him and get up to follow Harry out.

When Draco finally caught up to Harry they were outside and near the lake. Although Harry made it perfectly clear with his brisk walking that he did not want to be followed, Draco understood exactly what Harry really wanted. Draco's friendship with Pansy had taught him a lot about relationships and Harry Potter. Even if Harry would never admit it himself, he was emotionally like a female. Despite the signals he gave that he didn't want to be followed, he really did want to be followed. Harry simply wanted to see if Draco would keep pursuing him and apparently Draco was willing to play along.

In his blind haste to follow Harry, Draco had neglected to realize that they were outside where it was cold and windy in spite of the sun overhead. Draco wrapped his arms around himself and wondered why Harry didn't look like he was about to freeze his bits off too.

"Harry, it's bloody freezing. Can we talk inside?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, I would like to discuss something."

Harry turned on his heel to face him. Draco could clearly see that Harry was pissed right off and that it was therefore not the best time to have any type of discussion with him.

"What about? Your new boyfriend? I got it Draco: it meant nothing to you. It was just a part of the blackmail, which by the way, I am no longer doing."

"Stop putting words in my mouth, Potter."

Draco advanced on him suddenly and Harry was too slow from cold to even react in time. Grabbing him the elbow, Draco started to drag him towards the castle where warmth waited for them. Even though Harry had quickly fallen in step with Draco, the Slytherin refused to let go but did ease up on the pressure.

The walk was silent due to Harry's embarrassment from being dragged like a child and apparently making inaccurate assumptions, and Draco's anger. When the reached the dungeons, Harry skidded to a halt and winced when Draco clutched his elbow harder and yanked him forward.

"Let's go," Draco barked.

"I'm not going down there."

"Afraid of the dark, Potter?" he teased, deliberately taunting him.

"The last thing I want to be is surrounded and outnumbered by a bunch of Slytherins like you, Malfoy," Harry retorted.

"You're really starting to irritate me. Now let's go."

As Draco began to walk and attempt to pull Harry along with him, Harry planted his feet and tugged back, refusing to move. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to resist Draco but Harry should have known better, having years of experience with Draco's temper. One moment he was standing with his arm outstretched and aching. The next minute he was pressed against the stone wall with Draco's hard body and his arms pinned next to his head.

"Maybe I should piss you off more often," Harry mused.

"You would enjoy this, you pervert," Draco purred.

Truth be told, there wasn't much to not enjoy. Aside from the fact that they could be discovered by Snape or any of Draco's other cronies, Harry decided that his position was pretty fucking awesome. There was the discomfort of the stone that was unyielding against his backside but there was the hardness of Draco's lithe body that cancelled it out. Draco's leg fit snugly in between Harry's so much that he had to bite back a moan when Draco's thigh brushed against Harry's hardening length.

"You seem to find yourself in this position often," Draco said silkily.

A frown was Harry's response.

"Have you forgotten our little meeting in the cupboard?"

_Ugh. Fuck that cupboard_, Harry thought. He hated that damn thing since the whole experience had been truly embarrassing for him.

"Not likely."

"I think it's time to finish what we started in there."

"We didn't start anything."

"That's not what I remember."

Harry's breath hitched in his throat as Draco leaned into him, brushing his lips against Harry's with such softness that started to make Harry melt. The desire to claim Draco's mouth for his own was hard to resist and he would have given in had he wanted to ruin the tenderness of the moment. Draco's lips traced the edge of Harry's jaw until they found his ear lobe where his teeth nipped at playfully.

"Maybe we should do this somewhere else," Harry said huskily, swallowing the lump of desire in his throat.

In truth, Harry needed a break. He wasn't used to so much Draco at once and was beginning to feel like some first year about to come just from kissing. The embarrassment would be unending and something Harry knew that Draco would never let him live down.

"Maybe you should put that mouth to some use," Draco replied distractedly.

Refusing to let Harry ruin another good moment, Draco dropped Harry's arms that he had pinned against the wall and cupped Harry's face, swallowing the words on the tip of the Gryffindor's tongue with his mouth. The moan that Draco elicited went straight to his cock, which strained against Harry's hip. One of Harry's hands gripped the back of Draco's neck tightly while the other settled on his hip, urging Draco to frot against him. As Draco intensified the kiss, Harry's tongue glided against the other boy's before his teeth nipped at Draco's bottom lip.

It became increasingly apparent to Harry that he did not know how to breathe and kiss much less multitask with anything when it came to Draco. He broke the kiss abruptly and panted his breaths out as Draco's face went from confusion to understanding.

"I thought we were discussing something," Harry said after he caught his breath.

"And I thought we were kissing," Draco murmured against Harry's mouth.

"We need to talk," Harry said, his words coming out muffled against the attack that Draco pursued against his lips. "I'm serious."

"Fine," Draco growled.

Harry was not prepared for the sudden loss of heat and Draco, and whimpered in protest. The blond smirked triumphantly before grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him down the stairs to the dungeons.

"You could just hold my hand, you know," Harry spoke aloud.

It did seem odd that Draco had resorted back to yanking him about, but Harry soon realized that the Slytherin probably wanted to touch him and was too afraid to hold Harry's hand. Draco was stupid if he believed that Harry would reject him. If anything, Harry would have grinned like an idiot and skipped about merrily making his way into the snake den.

"Boys don't hold hands."

"Boys don't usually kiss and – "

"Keep your voice down," Draco hissed.

They stepped through the portrait and cautiously made their way up to the common room, which sounded relatively deserted.

"It wouldn't have killed you to bring your cloak, would it?"

"I didn't know I'd end up _here_," Harry hissed back.

Daringly, Harry peered around the corner to check out who exactly was in the common room. It looked like mostly everyone was still at breakfast, which was typical for students on Saturdays, or in their rooms. Harry was suddenly thankful that Draco had acquired a private one. Blaise sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace reading _The Quibbler_ while Millicent and Daphne were chatting ceaselessly on one of the couches.

"What should we do?" Harry questioned quietly. "We'll never make it past Zabini."

"Keep your trap shut and follow my lead," Draco replied tersely.

Once again, Draco seized his arm and began to pull him into the common room where everyone could see them. He instantly resisted and received a wink of approval. Apparently Draco knew him better than he thought because this was the exact reaction that he had wanted.

"Well, well, well. What have you got there?" wondered Blaise, tossing his newspaper onto the end table before he stood. "If it isn't Potter himself."

"Caught him lurking in the dungeons," Draco replied, a smirk on his face.

"Oooh, Draco!" Daphne squealed with too much excitement. "Are you going to punish him?"

"That's a great idea, Daphne," Draco replied smoothly, eyeing Harry beside him. "I think he might enjoy it though."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry spat.

"Can we watch, Draco?" Millicent asked, a slight whine in her voice. "It would be so much fun."

"What I'm going to do to Potter isn't something a lady should see," Draco answered darkly.

A small shudder caressed its way up his spine, covering his skin in goose bumps. Draco was clearly putting on a show for his fellow classmates but Harry had a feeling that Draco was right about what he had just said.

Blaise's soft, somewhat knowing chuckle interrupted Harry's thoughts about what exactly Draco would do to him. He scowled at the Slytherin for distracting him and then tried to pull his arm free from Draco's loosened grasp. Draco's hand slid down to Harry's wrist but he held tight before the Gryffindor could escape. Desire flared inside of him again when he felt Draco's pinky snake out and caress the inside of his palm. Harry relished in the touch, understanding that this was as probably as close to holding Draco's hand as he was going to get.

The sound of a door closing softly caught everyone's attention. Pansy eyed Harry and then Draco as she slowly descended the stairs, as if she was buying time for Harry.

"Let him go, Draco," she said gently. "He didn't do anything wrong."

As much as Harry liked Pansy for her compassion and her odd fondness for him in Potions since she was his partner, Harry wanted to scream at her and tell her that she was about to ruin everything.

"Stay out of it, Parkinson."

An internal sigh of relief resounded in Harry as he understood that Draco recognized the impending destruction of their plans if Pansy continued to reason with him. Harry whimpered faintly when Draco tugged hard at his wrist for him to follow as Draco made his way to his bedroom.

"Play nice, Draco!" Pansy shouted after the slamming of Draco's door.

"I don't plan on it," he answered in a slight growl, his eyes devouring Harry.

The Gryffindor held out his hands and began to slowly back away. He shook his head as Draco advanced on him. Harry desperately wanted to give in to the desire that was threatening to consume him but he had to talk to Draco first and sort things out before it became a mess again. Harry jumped on Draco's bed, trying to put some distance between them, but recognized that he was instantly doomed when Draco grabbed him by the ankle and pulled his feet out from under him. At least he had a cushy landing.

"We need to talk, remember?"

"We can do that after."

Harry repeatedly smacked Draco's hands off of him since they were trying to divest Harry of his robes. Deciding that working on Harry was a waste of time, Draco undid his own robes and threw them onto the floor, followed by his sweater. Momentarily blinded by the shirt around his head, Draco didn't see Harry coming at him. With strength that Draco didn't recognize, Harry flipped the blond over onto his back so that he could straddle him while pinning the blond's wrists above his head.

"We're talking," Harry stated firmly.

Signing, Draco responded casually, "About what?"

Harry wrenched Draco's shirt back down his torso so he could see the other boy's face. Draco pouted briefly but was still content that he had managed to get off his robe and sweater. Harry's clothing was still in place unfortunately.

"What the fuck was that at breakfast?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Nott?"

"Are friends."

"It looked like more than that to me," Harry taunted.

"Do I sense a bit of jealously, Potter?"

A flush instantly consumed Harry's cheeks before it spread down his neck and under his robes where Draco couldn't see.

"He was holding your hand."

"He momentarily touched it."

"You won't even touch me hand."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"He was all over you, practically in your lap."

"He was not."

"You two were so close it almost looked like you were kissing."

"We weren't."

"But you could've been!"

"Do I look like your fucking boyfriend, Potter?" Draco snapped suddenly, tired of the unwarranted accusations.

As soon as Draco blurted the sentence out, he regretted it because he knew that it would do more harm then good. Unlike Draco, Harry was fragile and confused, emotionally unstable. Their situation was delicate and Draco was slowly starting to understand that.

"That was rude. I'm sorry," Draco said evenly.

"No, you're right. You're _not_ my boyfriend and you're making that very clear," Harry retorted hotly back. "Especially when you snog me in the hallway and cuddle me when I was in the infirmary. And you made it crystal clear when you sucked me off a few days ago that I am _not_ your boyfriend."

"It was a blowjob, Potter. Not an engagement."

"So it meant nothing to you."

"That's not true."

"Then why don't you tell me something that is true."

"Like what?"

"Who were you going to brew the love potion for?"

Against his better judgment, Draco replied, "You, Harry."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Why would you think I would lie to you?"

"Because you'd be wasting your time with that potion on me."

"And why is that?"

"Are you seriously that daft? It's pretty obvious that I like you."

"But it was a love potion, Harry."

Draco was sure that the look of confusion on Harry's face was becoming permanent since it was there so often. Sighing, Draco shifted uncomfortably from the awkward strain of his arms being forced into the soft mattress. He did, however, enjoy that Harry sat on his lap though the sensation of Harry's ass on his somewhat erect cock began to make Draco impatient as well as ridiculously horny.

"I get that. I don't get what you mean thought."

"It's great that you _like_ me but I want you to _love _me."


	10. It's about Time

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one's disclaimer.

**Rating:** PG

**A/N:** Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! I have the best readers : )

Just to let everyone know, this story is taking so long to write because I'm in full time university. Basically, when I write a chapter, I feel guilty because I could have been writing an essay or studying. I'll try to be quick though!

**Warning:** dialogue overload. If anyone has read anything by me before, they know this doesn't usually happen. Roll with it.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: It's about Time**

"He said what?" exclaimed Hermione, her voice shrill and surprised.

"Back it up, Harry. What happened?" Ron said, his voice strained with confusion and exhaustion.

Harry was hysterical and pacing around the room, not making much sense at all.

"He told me he that he wanted me to love him."

"When was this?" Hermione wondered.

Checking his watch, Harry replied, "Fifteen minutes ago."

"And what did you say back?"

"I didn't say anything. I just ran."

"You ran? _Away_ from him? Harry, what part of you thought that that was a good idea?"

"The stupid part of me."

Letting out a groin, Harry collapsed onto the empty armchair by the fireplace. He hung his head in his hands as he shook his head back and forth, not believing what had happened mere minutes ago.

"Malfoy didn't stop you?" Ron said.

"I thought I heard him run after, but I bolted pretty fast."

Hermione pulled up a chair next to Harry and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Don't you want to be with Draco?"

"Yes," Harry whispered.

"So then why did you run away? Now he's going to think you don't want that. Harry, he must be really hurt right now."

"I don't even know how to explain it, Hermione. I heard him say it and I panicked. I think I didn't believe him and didn't want to him hear him mock me when he found out I believed him and it was just a joke."

"That's a bit paranoid, mate," Ron said softly.

"You need to go back to him and straighten this out before everything is ruined."

"Hermione, I don't know if I can. I feel like such an idiot."

"Suck it up," Ron interjected.

"That's encouraging, Ron, thanks," Harry muttered.

"He's right though. You need to fo0rget about your pride and go back to apologize."

"If I don't?"

"If you don't, Harry," Hermione began slowly and evenly, "consider us no longer friends."

"What?" Ron and Harry cried out in unison, both astonished.

"Time's wasting."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm not going to sit here and let you ruin your life, Harry. Draco is the only one you've ever cared about as far as I know. Of all the people in the school, he is oddly enough suited best for you. You're throwing out a chance at love at friendship because of a wounded ego. Why would I want to be friends with someone like that?"

"It's not like there isn't anyone else in the world," Harry replied hotly back.

"There isn't and I don't want it to be too late to figure that out."

There was a moment of silence as Harry mulled the situation over for what seemed like the thousandth time. Finally, he stood up and walked out of the common room to the portrait hole without a word. Hermione and Ron watched him leave silently without stopping his abrupt departure.

"Honestly, Hermione?"

"Oh, come off it, Ron. You know there is no way I would stop being friends with Harry because of something like this. Of course I would livid if he didn't do anything, but I value our friendship too much. Harry needed a little extra push is all."

"You're absolute evil, woman," Ron replied, a huge smile on his face.

Leaning in, Ron cupped her face and gave her a lingering kiss. The two settled on the couch in the quiet common room, enjoying one another's company while the friend prepared to battle the world once again, but this time alone.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the Slytherin portrait hole and stood for a moment dusting off his clothes. He had taken a tumble on the last few steps down to the dungeon because his knees were wobbly and his legs felt like Jell-o. Anxiety flared in his chest and had his heart racing rapidly against his ribcage. It had calmed slightly when he realized that he would not have to knock on the portrait because he had heard Draco say the password earlier. He had to admit that he was surprised that someone hadn't changed it by now.

Drawing closer to the common room, Harry could hear several voices raised in anger and distress. Like he had before, Harry peered around the corner of the wall to see what was happening. He couldn't have prepared himself for what he would see and the sight completely knocked the wind out of his chest.

On one of the Victorian couches, Draco sat with his head in his hands while his shoulders shook. Pansy and Daphne were on either sides of him, both girls consoling their friend and trying to calm him down. Harry could hear soft sobs and his jaw dropped when he discovered they were coming from Draco. Meanwhile, Blaise paced the room, beginning to wear the carpet down beneath his snakeskin boots.

"I'll kill him, Draco," Blaise declared, ceasing his pacing momentarily. "I'll hunt him down and make him wish that He Who Must Not Be Named would have finished him off."

"Blaise!" cried out Pansy, shock plastered across her pallid face. "That is a horrible thing to say! You take that back right now."

"I wouldn't have said it if the Boy Who Has No Balls hadn't broken Draco's heart."

"He did nothing of the sort," Draco muttered, his voice thick and hoarse.

"That's not what it looks like," Millicent chimed in from the opposite corner, looking up from her book.

"So he didn't say anything? He just ran?" Pansy asked gently.

"What a coward," Blaise stated, folding his arms over his chest. "Clearly, Draco, he is not worth your time."

"Maybe Harry was afraid," Pansy continued. "You two only recently became friends. He probably doesn't trust you. After all, you are the most cunning and deceiving wizard in Hogwarts."

"Thanks, Panse," he murmured. "We haven't even really been friends."

"What do you mean?" wondered Daphne. "I thought you said that you and him, well… you know."

A blush crept across her cheeks and she looked at Pansy to help her who was too busy watching Draco, waiting for his response.

"We did, but I haven't been exactly nice to him."

"What did you do, Draco Malfoy?" Pansy inquired, sounding a lot like Hermione to Harry.

"I've been my usual self with him."

"No wonder Harry run off then. He definitely thought you were trying to deceive him."

"But I wasn't, Pansy! I really do love him!"

Harry could see Draco's eyes shine from tears as the blond sat up, rolling his shoulders. He leaned back into the couch, folding his hands in his lap as he stared up at the high ceiling. The two girls adjusted to his new position, both settling back into the couch on their sides so that they could face him. Blaise had decided to seat himself a while ago, which was a relief to Harry since the Slytherin looked as if he could kill at the moment.

The desire to run to Draco and comfort him overwhelmed Harry to the point where he was moving away from the wall into plain sight before he knew what he was doing. Afraid that someone had seen his momentary lapse in judgment, Harry retreated quickly back into the shadows where he could watch. His haste movements caught Draco's eye, the Slytherin instantly settling his gaze on Harry. He knew that Draco could probably see his wild hair and broad shoulder that stuck out, giving away his hiding spot.

It was then that Harry wanted to curl up into a ball and die rather than face Draco and four of his pissed off friends. He was undoubtedly outnumbered and he wasn't sure if Draco would spare him if Blaise decided to go through with his earlier threat.

"I'd like to be alone," Draco announced.

"Are you sure?" Daphne wondered.

Her hand rubbing small circles on Draco's leg to comfort him, but it only made Harry jealous and Draco feel like a child.

"I need to think some things over."

"Okay," Pansy said softly.

The two girls retreated to their dorms, dragging a disgruntled Millicent along with them. Meanwhile, Blaise appeared unmoving in his seat. Draco knew that his best friend would be the most difficult to get rid of, especially because it was the common room and Draco technically had little authority to banish his friend from the area.

"Does that mean me too?"

"Sorry, Blaise."

Luckily, Blaise seemed in a charitable mood that morning and was willing to consent to Draco's ever demanding ways. Draco watched him walk up the steps to his room but his breath caught in his throat when Blaise turned to face him half way.

"Are you sure you don't want me to maim him for you? I can cut off his balls so he'll never –"

"Maybe some other time," Draco interrupted.

"Sure."

A few minutes after Harry heard the sound of a door shutting, he stepped out from the shadows so that Draco could see him. Despite the blond's bloodshot eyes and puffy face from crying, he appeared regal, sitting straight up with his arms on the back of the couch, his left leg crossed over his right. A haunted look marred his façade, making Harry unsure if he wanted to talk with him or turn around to exit through the portrait.

"Thinking about running again, Potter?" Draco wondered stoically.

"It crossed my mind."

"Don't let me stop you."

Instead of turning around and escaping like part of his brain told him to do, Harry ascended the steps to the common room and winced a little as the light stung his eyes. Harry followed Draco when he got up off the couch and began moving towards his room. The risk of someone hearing them was too great and the last person Harry wanted to see was Blaise.

Harry shut the door quietly behind him and turned around to find Draco sprawled on his bed, his hands covering his eyes. It was the second time, aside from when he had first entered the House, Harry had seen Draco so vulnerable and exposed. It was refreshing to see that the Prince of Slytherin had feelings and emotions like everyone else.

"I didn't mean to run away," Harry started, his words sounding lame even to his ears.

"That's not what it looked like to me."

"You scared me."

"I'm flattered that my declarations of love frighten you. I think that's a new level of achievement for me."

"Pansy was right: I thought you were only saying it to hurt me. I thought you were going to twist it back at me like everything else."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"It means that I don't trust you. This whole thing started out off on the wrong foot. Blackmail doesn't exactly make me trust you, regardless of before this all happened."

"There wasn't any other way," Draco responded softly.

"I can think of one. You could have just asked me out."

A scoff was heard from the bed as Harry sat down across from him, studying the still body on the bed.

"Like you would have said yes."

"I would have."

"Potter, you didn't like me before any of this even started."

"Actually, I did."

Silence enveloped the room while Harry waited for the other boy to say something back. He sighed softly and played with his hands in his lap, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of his sweater.

"You still ran out on me."

"I don't know if you've known me lately, but I don't make smart decisions sometimes."

"And is this another one of those times?"

"No," Harry replied evenly. "I want to be with you, Draco."

"If this gets serious, Potter, and I'm not saying that it will, are you going to run off on me again because you're scared?"

"No."

"You didn't even think before you answered," Draco retorted, though he didn't sound at all surprised.

"I didn't have to. All I ever think about is how much I want to be with you."

Draco groaned at the triteness of the situation and swore he felt his no longer existent gag reflexes acting up. Rubbing his hands once more over his eyes, Draco let out a few breaths before he sat up, his hands gripping the edge of the bed.

"What am I going to do with you, Potter?"

"Well, we can start fresh and –"

"It was an utterly rhetorical question, you half wit."

"For someone who said that he loves me, you sure are mean to me."

"Two things: I never said that I love you and I'm merely stating a known fact."

"It's that whole little kid complex isn't it?"

"What're you on about?" Draco asked, sounding exasperated as their conversation unfolded.

"You know, when a little boy likes a girl instead of telling her so, he kicks her and pulls her hair before running off."

"I'm not sure what kind of primary school you went to, Potter, but that definitely did not occur where I intended."

"Yeah, I suppose boys courted the girls and were practically engaged by grade two."

"Sounds about right."

"So who are you supposed to be engaged to?"

Harry was not looking forward to the answer because it was something he had not even considered until that very moment. He did want a long term relationship with Draco, but sooner or later Draco would leave him for some Pureblood witch to keep the Malfoy line going.

"None of your business," Draco said defiantly, yet conveniently avoiding Harry's gaze by picking a thread off of his robe.

"I believe it is."

"And why is that? Do you think _we're_ going to be married some day?"

Harry worried his bottom lip in and out of his mouth while he shoved his clammy hands into his pockets. It was a matter of seconds before he started shuffling back and forth with the serious conversation. If anything was good at all at the moment it was that Draco wasn't throwing him out of his room and that Harry hadn't bolted.

"Well, I, um," Harry stammered slowly, "I, uh, wouldn't exactly say no."

As soon as Draco met the brunet's wide eyes, Harry glanced at the wall, then the ground, and settled at Draco's shoes. He could feel grey eyes searching his face though he wasn't sure what they would find aside from embarrassment and anticipation since Draco was hadn't responded.

"I think I'm going to sit," Harry announced suddenly.

Walking with controlled movements, Harry finally seated himself and gripped the armrest with his shaking hands. He couldn't control his nervousness because the escalading tension and anticipation were too much. There he was completely laying everything out for Draco, who seemed quite content with sitting on the edge of his bed, saying nothing.

"You want to marry me."

"Well, I don't even know what it's like to date you, really," Harry started, his eyes on the floor again, "so, I, uh, wouldn't say that, but I'm not going to say no either because it's a possibility, right? Everyone knows I'm gay now and it's not a secret anymore and we don't have to be a secret because all your friends know and mine do too. But yeah… marriage."

Harry eventually stopped his monologue when he realized that he was decreasing in sense while increasing in rambling.

"This is too much."

"Oh."

"We haven't even started dating and we're taking about getting married."

"Uh, it kind of sounded more like I was talking about us getting married."

"Even worse."

"So you don't want to marry me."

"I never said that."

"Then say it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter. We're not even sure that this is going to work out and we're already setting ourselves up for failure by placing all these expectations and pressures on ourselves."

"_You_ set us up for failure with trying to make a love potion," Harry retorted, his voice sounding more heated than apprehensive.

"Actually, no. I wanted to make us work because I didn't believe that you would ever like me let alone any other male for that matter."

"You didn't think I was gay?" Harry asked, a bit shocked.

"You didn't even know you were gay until recently if I am not mistaken. And besides, you don't exactly scream 'homosexual'."

"Not every queer dresses nice and talks like a poof."

"Eloquent, Potter. I really am impressed."

"Clearly you don't love me for my articulation."

"I'm not really sure why I love you."

"Oh that's excellent, Draco," Harry stated, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Why am I even here then?"

"Because you love me too."

"And where does that leave us?"

"Doomed."

"How prophetic."

There was an exaggerated pause in which Harry stewed in his seat with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes on the fire that had presumably lit itself. Draco pretended to be interested in smoothing out his duvet, which he had to admit was very favorable and understood why Harry had done the same some time ago.

"So are you going to ask me out?" Harry wondered.

"Now why would I do that?"

"You're the alpha male apparently. Isn't that your job or something?"

"Well, I really wasn't planning on it."

"Let me get this straight: you don't know why you love me and you're not even going to ask me out, but you brewed a love potion for me so that we would be together."

"Correct."

"Did you think I was going to ask you out?"

"Absolutely not. You don't have the bollocks."

"Now you're baiting me."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort."

"So why won't you ask me out?"

"I'm not a fan of labels."

"Well I am, so get used to them."

Harry instantly felt subconscious as Draco's eyes roamed over him, studying him for some reason that Harry did not know. He shifted in the chair, aware that it was one more for decoration than comfort. If this were his room, Harry thought, he wouldn't waste space with ridiculous furniture that made people's bums hurt when they sat on it for longer than five minutes. It was another example of the different tastes between the two boys that made Harry wonder why he wanted to be with Draco when it appeared that they were very different.

"You look confused," Draco mused softly.

"I'm wondering why you would keep such a ridiculous piece of furniture."

"Did I just hear you call my chair ridiculous? Clearly you know nothing about antiques. That chair is nearly one hundred years old I'll have you know, Potter. They don't make Queen Anne legs like that anymore!"

"It's uncomfortable as shite, Draco."

"It wasn't made for comfort, you half-wit."

"So you would rather have something that looks expensive and old than something that's comfortable?"

"You're missing the point," Draco said irritably. "It's an _antique_."

"I think _you're_ missing the point," Harry shot back.

Draco paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed and his mouth slightly slack, before he spoke. "Are we talking about the chair or you? Because I'll have you know that I have enough money of my own so I don't need some old sugar daddy."

"I never said anything about that."

"It sounded like it."

"I said 'expensive and old.'"

"Fine. I don't need an aging prostitute."

"That wasn't my point."

"Then what was it because I'm beginning to lose my patience."

"When you interrupted my thoughts, I was thinking about how different our tastes are. I would never dream of putting something this uncomfortable in my house, let alone my room, yet you seem to have lots of these things."

"I like them."

"Because that's what your fancy upbringing has taught you to like."

"Honestly, sometimes I think you're more narrow-minded than a pureblood," Draco murmured, shaking his head. "Potter, I like antiques because they're beautifully made. You just don't see it anymore. There's still great craftsmanship around, but everything these days is factory made. Someone put a lot of effort into that chair you're bashing. And it's real mahogany, Potter, like that desk. Not that plastic shit they glue to a piece of plywood."

"So you like things that are real and made well?"

"Yes."

"I'm real. I think my parents made me well."

Harry sounded so cute and innocent that Draco couldn't help the smile that played at his lips.

"We were talking about antiques."

"We're talking about us now."

"It's hard to keep track with you."

"I'm not expensive," Harry blurted out.

Draco chuckled and replied, "I'm aware of that."

"I can be if you want me to."

"I don't necessarily like expensive things because they cost a lot of money. Like you pointed out, I like things that are well-made, which usually means that I have to pay more money. I would rather pay more for something that looks nice and lasts longer, than pay less for something that is going to break in a few weeks or months."

"I'm not going to break," Harry replied persuasively.

"I'll break you," Draco responded conspiratorially, a wicked grin on his face.

"Draco, I'm being serious."

"Then stop comparing yourself to furniture."

"Well, you seem to think that a relationship with me is a bad thing despite the fact that it was your original idea."

"Maybe I'm having second thoughts."

"So it's one of those times when you really want something and as soon as you have it you don't want it anymore?"

Harry looked like he was about to cry and that was the last thing Draco wanted.

"No, it's not like that at all."

"Then what is it like, Draco, because I don't understand any of this?"

"I'm still trying to accept the fact that you even like me and that you want to date me…publicly. I've really liked you for a long time, Harry. It's a little too surreal right now."

"Oh," said Harry softly.

"You really want to do this?"

Nodding in reply, Harry stood up out of the chair that had caused him so much grief. He could feel Draco's eyes on him as he stretched out his sore legs. Walking slowly towards where Draco sat, Harry could practically hear the wheels turning in the blond's head. He looked a little confused and curious to see what Harry was about to do. Harry sat down next to Draco, putting his hand the other boy's thigh, his head on his bony shoulder.

"So, we're boyfriends."

The words felt foreign on Draco's tongue but he liked the way it sounded. A little part in his chest swelled as he could feel Harry smiling into his shoulder

"If that was your lame way of asking me out, then yes, we are."


	11. Laying Down the Ground Rules

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Rating:** PG-14

**A/N:** I make the best spelling mistakes. I laughed out loud hard when I wrote 'letting out a groin, Harry collapsed…" Bahaha. 'A' and 'i' aren't even close on the keyboard. Does someone want to be my editor?

I was going to make this much longer, but I figured I needed to feed the starving readers. If I didn't update this tonight, I knew that it would still be another few weeks.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Laying Down the Ground Rules**

It was nearing lunch time. Draco hadn't emerged from his private room since breakfast, and his housemates were beginning to worry. Every half hour, Blaise threatened to stomp up there or kill Harry himself, but Millicent and Daphne calmed him done. Dean Thomas had somehow managed to get himself roped into the mess, his sentiments akin to Blaise's, but out of jealousy. The only person who did not appear distressed or worried was Pansy. She knew what was going on, even if it was only vaguely. Draco would never harm Harry. She knew that. She did not know, however, if Draco would easily forgive Harry for walking out on him. That, they would find out eventually.

It didn't take them too long to discover that Draco was not alone in his room like they had left him. Millicent crept up the stairs quietly and pressed her ear to the solid door. She could hear two very distinct male voices and nearly squealed in delight as she bounded ungracefully down the stairs to tell the others.

"Since when have you been a fan of Harry?" Pansy wondered, eyeing up her housemate suspiciously.

"Well, if I can't have him, I think that Draco should be the one to," she answered, the stupid grin still on her face.

"I think they would make a great couple," Daphne chimed in. "They would the hottest couple at Hogwarts, don't you think, Pansy?"

She nodded her reply and tried to drown out the chatter that had developed between the two girls about Draco and Harry, bordering on inappropriate.

Meanwhile, Harry stood with his hands on his hips before Draco, a stern expression on his face. Draco hadn't moved from the bed since they had started talking hours ago, and Harry began to notice. He, however, had more important things to discuss other than Draco's safe haven.

"I have a list of demands."

"Potter, that's not how these things work."

"This isn't a typical situation so I'm sure an exception can be made."

"Then I have a list of demands as well."

"Mine first."

"By all means, ladies go first."

"First off, I am not the woman in this relationship."

"I beg to differ."

"We haven't even had sex yet, but I know I will not like bottoming."

"You _will_ enjoy bottoming, Potter, because it will be _my_ cock up your arse."

"Secondly, no more 'Potter' or 'Malfoy.'"

"You're taking all the fun out of this relationship," Draco replied, pouting as he folded his arms over his chest for dramatic affect. "And to reiterate, you are the bottom."

"For all we know, you could enjoy it."

"I'm positive that I will enjoy it, _Harry_, but it's a fact that you're the female here."

"It is not!" Harry protested.

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"How is it a fact?"

"Because I seem to be taking the dominant role in situations and you naturally allow me. You want me to. You like that I take charge and I enjoy doing so."

"Third, stop being condescending."

"I'm not being condescending. I am merely stating truths."

"You're being a prat, is what you're doing."

"Are you finished your ridiculous list yet?"

"See, there you go again."

"Another fact, Harry."

"Fourth, I do not want this to be a secret. If we're going to be boyfriends, I want everyone to know."

"Oh, I'm touched," Draco responded sarcastically. "And why would you want such a thing?"

"You don't?"

"Stop making assumptions."

"Because you're mine, Draco, and I want everyone to know that."

"Everyone being those who want to jump me?"

"Especially them, yes."

"Very well."

"Also, I like PDAs, not your Neanderthal yanking me around by the arm business."

"I'll see what I can do."

There was a long pause in which Harry stood before Draco, pondering any more possible additions to the list. He tapped his bottom lip pensively with his finger as he stared up at the ceiling. If it had been anyone else, Draco would have thought he looked ridiculous and cliché. It was Harry, however, he was dealing with and he couldn't help but think that the Gryffindor looked cute while he had difficulty thinking.

"I think that's it," Harry announced.

"Are you sure that's everything?"

Harry nodded in reply.

"So are we finished talking now?" Draco wondered, feigning boredom as he studied his nails.

"I thought you had a list too."

"I just said that."

"Six: no lying."

"Potter, if you make this list any longer, I'm going to have to rethink this."

"You're being condescending and you called me by my surname."

"Well, that is your name, _Harry_, in case you have forgotten. And you should consider looking up 'condescending' in the dictionary because I think you have it confused with something else."

"Like what?"

"I'm not going to be the sissy boyfriend you want me to be," Draco stated evenly. "I'm not nice. I don't want to be. It's boring, tedious, no fun. If I want to call you names, I will, Harry. I'm not belittling you. Consider them pet names and my way of showing you affection."

"I don't want you to be a sissy."

"Yes, you do. You want me to be nice and not to say mean things, even if they're true. I won't be like that, Harry, so if that's what you want, you should look elsewhere."

"I don't want to look elsewhere," Harry mumbled, drawing closer to Draco.

"Good."

Grabbing Harry's fidgeting hands, Draco pulled him forward and into his lap. Harry quickly adjusted to sitting astride the blond, his arms draped around Draco's shoulders, his ass finding the right fit against Draco's groin. His lips were pursed, trying not to reveal what Harry's shifting did to him. A small squeak filled Draco's ears when he grasped a handful of Gryffindor ass, pulling him impossibly closer.

"You know, Hermione will probably send a search party soon," Harry began, looking past Draco at his watch. "Lunch is nearly over."

"Speaking of lunch, I'm ravenous," Draco replied huskily.

Soft thin lips found the hollow of Harry's throat impossibly quick, a tongue darting out to taste the skin warm beneath. Harry dipped his head lower to allow him better access. A fistful of blond hair made sure that the soft lips stayed against heated skin, prolonging the butterflies in Harry's stomach.

"Draco," Harry began softly, whispering into his hair, "everyone's probably worried about you."

"Shut it, Potter," Draco growled back.

A small bite on Harry's collarbone silenced him promptly. Shivers snaked down Harry's back as Draco's fingers found purchase underneath his shirt, his nails biting gently into the flesh they found. The kisses on his neck were no longer enough. Harry cupped Draco's face in his hands and directed his mouth to his lips. There was still a hint of playfulness even as passion overrode all gentleness. Draco winced when Harry's inexperienced mouth brought their teeth together, but the brunet quickly made up for it with a sweep of his tongue against Draco's.

Moaning into the mouth that readily assaulted his own, Draco's mind did more doing than thinking. He held tight to the wanton young man in his lap so that he could reverse their positions. Stealing a glance at his lover laid out across his bed, lust pounded through his veins as he realized that this was exactly what he had strived for, for years.

It took Harry longer than normal to process that Draco, albeit astride him, was no longer kissing him. He cracked a weary eyelid, wondering if it was safe to look.

Abrupt fully-bellied laughter shattered Draco's reverie. This had to have been the first time in recorded history that a boy _laughed_ when Draco was on top. Sending the Gryffindor the coldest look he could muster proved to be difficult but still achievable. Most of his effort went into hiding his embarrassment. He had been caught ogling. Malfoy's didn't ogle. Not publicly, at least.

Gripping his sides in a fit of controllable laughter, Harry managed to get out, "You had the goofiest grin look on your face! You looked like Dopey!"

Because Draco had no idea what a 'Dopey' was, he instantly assumed that it had to be a Muggle reference.

"Potter, you know I don't read that ridiculous Muggle propaganda they called 'literature.' What are you on about?"

"Oh, come on! You know the look I'm talking about."

"Hardly." Draco was definitely miffed.

The laughter subsided and now Harry was plagued by small hiccups that Draco would have found cute if he hadn't been suppressing the urge to throttle Harry in a non-sexual way… which gave him ideas.

"Men don't laugh when I'm on top."

"Clearly none of them have seen that face."

"I'm not impressed, Potter."

The smile vanished quickly from Harry's face. The blond's tone was undeniably dangerous and in that moment Harry knew he was in trouble. He knew also knew that he would like it.


	12. First Times

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Written for entertainment not for profit.

**Rating:** NC-17

**A/N:** Dedicated to SexySpeedDemon for noticing my unintentional slip up by calling Draco's erection "his little problem." Consequently, Draco did not want to appear in the next chapter as protest for my accidental slander seven chapters ago. I had to promise him that he could fuck Harry's brains out in chapter twelve and thirteen. If Draco appears extra spiteful it's because of chapter five and the ridiculous UST that plagues him and Harry every moment. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING: HIT THE BACK BUTTON IF YOU'RE A PRUDE. Jk. But seriously.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: First Times**

If someone had told him that one day Draco Malfoy would be on top of him, pinning him into the Slytherin's bed with his weight and hands while getting his face snogged off, Harry would have called St. Mungo's and told them a mental patient was on the loose. It was one of those times that you had to see it to believe it or definitely experience it. Even though he met these terms, Harry still could not fathom that what was happening actually was.

His breath hitched. About five minutes ago, Draco had discovered that Harry liked to be bitten, something that was as much of a surprise to the Gryffindor as it was his lover. When he had first nipped his teeth along Harry's shoulder, neither of them had expected the gasp that ripped itself from Harry's lungs or the little whimpers that followed. Desire had shot straight to Harry's groin, making the zipper of his jeans impossibly confining. Now, the Slytherin's sinful tongue and sharp teeth teased his ear. A ragged breath drew itself out of Harry's mouth. His shirt had been abandoned some time ago and now Harry realized he was the only one baring flesh. Draco shivered as Harry's cool fingers drew the fabric of his top over his head. It landed crumbled on the floor behind them. The Gryffindor expected a harsh reprimand but eased when he received none.

For a brief moment Draco felt subconscious as Harry drunk in the sight of the pallid flesh before him. Mesmerized, Harry's hands traveled from the black leather belt to the tops of Draco's shoulders, before slowly skimming their way down. Goose bumps marred the flesh beneath his calloused hands. A smirk played upon Harry's lips.

"I could do this all day," Harry murmured, still in a trance.

"It looks like it's going to take that long," Draco muttered impatiently, before a sigh filled the air.

Frowning, Harry asked gently, "You're not enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, I am. It's that I've been waiting for years to get you into my bed and now that I finally have, I want to fuck your brains out. Foreplay isn't really my primary agenda."

"But this is my first time," Harry pouted.

"And I wouldn't dream of soiling your precious first time, Potty. I understand you Gryffindors have an unreasonable attachment to useless sentiments."

The sudden shift from tenderness to bitterness had Harry reeling. It was difficult to keep up with Draco's constantly changing emotions. This time was no different except that Harry was genuinely hurt.

"It's not a useless sentiment, Malfoy."

"Now you're violating your own rule."

"If you weren't such a prat I wouldn't resort to being defensive like always."

"Again, I am pointing out a fact."

"Just because I was taught to value the human body and not freely exploit it like yourself doesn't mean you have to demean my values, which apparently differ greatly from your own."

Suddenly, Harry did not like having Draco on top of him because the Slytherin was not going to be in control this time. He would not win.

"Virginity is only temporary, Harry, and that is why it's useless. Everyone who has ever had sex is more than happy to be rid of it. Those who clutched onto it have wondered why they did so for so long. You will have many opportunities to _make love_. I do not believe that your first should be some magical moment because the fact is, is that no matter how hard you try, it won't be. That's just how sex is. Sex is messy, random, opportunistic, and not anything like you've read in your sordid romance novels. It gets better with practice and no matter what, you are going to feel pain and not enjoy it the first time as much as you had hoped. _That's_ why it doesn't matter how your first time goes."

Harry was sure that that was the first time he had ever heard Draco talk so much at once, even in class. The blond's breath was slightly uneven from his vehement speech. His fingers were clutching painful into Harry's sides, leaving crescent moons from his fingernails.

"Now that I think about it, I've never asked what your first time was like. By the sounds of it, someone didn't take very good care of you. He didn't make it very pleasurable for you, did he? Is that why you're bitter, Draco? Do you really want it to be that way for me?"

"I already told you: I'm bitter because instead of my cock being so far up your arse that you gag, we're talking."

"I want to remember my first time, Draco. I don't want it to be quick and unaffectionate. You know I'm not like that."

"Yes, quickness was never your strong suit," Draco muttered.

There was a pause in which neither of them talked. Harry disregarded the insult, understanding that Draco would always take advantage of any chance to insult him, regardless of whether or not he really meant it. It was a force of habit for the both of them, especially Draco. Harry knew that it would take some time for them to get used to not being on the defensive all time.

"If you're not going to make love to me, Draco, you can get off of me right now."

Draco never intended to insult Harry so deeply. He simply wanted to express that he couldn't wait to be inside him, to finally have Harry all for himself instead of dreaming it. Somehow, Harry had managed to twist it around and against Draco. After all, the Slytherin had never said that he wouldn't be gentle with Harry. Plainly put, Draco would rather fuck him senseless and save the sentiments for later.

A sigh of contentment left Harry's lips when Draco's hands released themselves from Harry's skin. He didn't realize the amount of pain until now after Draco moved. Biting his lip in anticipation, Harry half expected Draco to get up, dress himself, than ask Harry to leave. However, the Slytherin appeared to be full of surprises that day. The blond leaned down to Harry's mouth and kissed him softly. Harry could feel Draco reigning in his passion, attempting to keep the snogging gentle unlike the hard battle their mouths had fought earlier. Draco broke the kiss, hovering above Harry's mouth. His eyes were locked on Harry's as he spoke.

"I will always take care of you, Harry. It is not in my nature, however, to be gentle."

It was like a benediction to Harry's ears. The Gryffindor gave what Draco considered to be an inane grin before he twined his arms around his neck, pulling the Slytherin down to his waiting mouth.

Without difficulty, Draco settled himself in between Harry's legs. The brunet quickly got the hint and wrapped his legs around the blond's hips, bringing their tortured erections back together. Harry frotted against him, eliciting groans from above. It was Harry's turn when Draco smoothed his hand down the front of Harry's naked chest to the bulge in pants, which he cupped teasingly. A thrust met his light touch, trying to get more, but Draco did not relent. He smiled into the kiss before bringing it deeper, letting loose his fervor. Harry whimpered under the onslaught of Draco's unyielding lips, having missed the passion that he admired so much.

"You're wearing too much clothing," Harry stumbled out between kisses.

"Good call."

Unfortunately, Draco had never been good at removing his clothing and doing anything sexual simultaneously. If he tried, he usually ended up tangled in his shirt or forgetting that he had shoes on while trying to get his pants off. It was best for both parties if he extracted himself and to do one thing at a time. The Gryffindor did not have to know that his boyfriend could not multitask. It probably would have inflated his ego.

Resting on his elbows, Harry watched as Draco slid off the bed and stood before him, his hands undoing his belt slowly. Licking his lips, Harry tried to push down the anticipation that flared in his chest. There was no point in denying that he was nervous. Everything had practically led up to this and now that it was time, Harry knew that there was no way he could back down. Not that Draco would force him. If Harry ran out, they were done and there was no way that Harry could lose Draco.

The sound of Draco's trousers hitting the floor, followed by his boxer briefs, queued Harry's mouth to run dry. He swallowed with difficulty and simply stared at the sight of Draco naked before him, standing with his hands on his hips and an arrogant smirk tugging at his lips.

"That's not going to fit," Harry stated matter-of-factly, trepidation audibly lacing his tone.

"I'll make it fit."

Seeing that Harry was too awestruck with the size of his cock, Draco advanced on his partner with speed. The sight of the engorged flesh that was likely to attack momentarily was enough to send Harry bolting off the bed and in the other direction. Draco found the situation utterly amusing and gave a little chortle to confirm it as he switched course to match Harry's.

"I thought you'd be up for a little challenge, Potter."

"That's not little," Harry stammered, suddenly caught in the corner.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm only slightly above average. Judging by what you think of my size, I'd be afraid to know what you're packing if I hadn't already seen it."

"Your dick has 'porn star' written all over it."

"Call me what you want, Harry, but I assure you that you'll enjoy it. I haven't heard a complaint yet."

"That's excellent, Malfoy. Not only will I have an arsehole the size of a quaffle, I'll also have syphilis."

"I'm not silly; I wrap my willy."

"Cute."

Harry's eyes were glued to the erection on display moving slowly towards him. Within seconds, he was trapped. Draco's hands on the wall blocked him in. Instead of meeting Draco's playful gaze, Harry blatantly stared further south.

"It's not polite to stare, Potter," Draco whispered against Harry's ear.

His breath sent a solid shiver down his spine and had his cheeks stinging with red. Despite the truth in Draco's words, Harry could not look away from the impressive display before him. Regardless of whether or not Draco was only slightly above average, anything that Draco packed Harry would have considered too big to fit. Soft, hard flesh brushed his inner thigh as Draco inclined his head to kiss him. It proved a good distraction. So good that Harry didn't realize that one of Draco's hands cupped his bum, inching its way along.

"I promise to be gentle, Harry."

Harry was sure that he would have said something had Draco's hands not suddenly settled on his jeans, managing to divest him of them in seconds. Underwear too. A chill snuck up Harry's spine as cool air washed over his skin. The exposure felt new, slightly liberating, yet more demanding than anything he had ever experienced. He was beyond used to being looked at, but the way Draco gazed at him now was entirely different. The lust was overpowering to the point that Harry didn't believe that Draco would keep his promise.

"That's better, don't you think?"

Harry nodded dumbly and resisted the urge to cover himself.

"As much as I would enjoy taking you right here against the wall, I think we'll leave it for another time."

Allowing himself to be dragged to the bed, Harry got a brief view of Draco's pale but muscular behind. His cock leapt at the sight, luckily unseen by the inspiration. It seemed natural in a way that Harry cared not to think too much about to have Draco on top of him, nestled in between his bare legs. An unhurried slide of their cocks together had Harry hissing unintelligible sounds that encouraged Draco onward.

"Don't stop," Draco murmured.

"I was about to say the same to you," Harry softly replied.

The friction between them was delicious though hardly comfortable as Draco encouraged the pace further. Recognizing the growing discomfort, Draco caught Harry's engorged flesh in his hand. The consequent stream of hisses was likely filled with profanities. Taking two of the fingers on his free hand, Draco slicked them with saliva. A chuckle met Harry's wide eyes.

"One at a time, Potter. Don't worry."

Tension stifled Harry when he felt fingers circle his entrance.

"I could make this easier for you," Draco offered kindly, keeping his voice neutral in hopes of not offending the Gryffindor.

"How?"

"Magic."

Ignoring the intended triteness in Draco's tone, Harry shook his head and answered, "I want this to be real. No magic."

"You're going to make me wear a condom, aren't you?"

"I told you I'm not a fan of syphilis."

"We both know that you wouldn't be sleeping with me if you thought I had some sort of disease."

"True enough."

"There are certain charms that serve like condoms, others as lube, and even some for stretching."

"I'd prefer to keep it natural for now."

"Very well."

Reaching over to the night stand, Draco dug around in the drawer for a condom and some lube that he kept handy for… well, he didn't know what for. He rarely used it. Satisfied that the expiration date hadn't past, Draco coated his once dry fingers with the substance.

"Oh, that feels weird."

Harry's face was scrunched up when one of Draco's fingers slowly found its way inside of Harry.

"You insisted," he playfully reminded him.

Draco wasn't sure if the brunet had even heard him over the soft hisses that began to fill the room. There were too many factors acting on Draco's arousal that he wasn't sure how much longer he would last. The Parseltongue, a naked Harry Potter, a tight arsehole, and blue balls were more than enough to make Draco come without being touched. It had to have been the first time in a very long time that Draco felt like a horny little second year student, reading to blow his load prematurely.

"You're distracted," Harry murmured hoarsely.

It was true. Draco's finger was moving too slow to be seductive and his gaze was settled at Harry's navel. Now that he processed what he was seeing, Draco quickened his ministrations and drank in the sight of a very aroused Potter. The Gryffindor's body was tense, like he was holding back, but it did wonders to his muscles. There was clear definition of abs and his biceps were flexed from his hands gripping into the duvet.

The brunet's head snapped back on a moan when Draco added a second digit, slowing his movements for his inexperienced lover to adjust. Draco's knees ached from sitting back on his haunches but nowhere near as much as his untouched cock. He kneeled in between Harry's outstretched thighs and discovered that Harry was missing hair on certain parts of his legs in similar places to his own. The Quidditch gear chafed ridiculously as the best of times.

A sharp distinctive hiss caused Draco's eyes to flash up, meeting Harry's emerald green gaze. Right. He had stopped moving his fingers.

"Is something wrong, Draco?"

"I'm admiring."

"And it's distracting enough for you to forget that you have your fingers in my arse?"

"You need to adjust anyways," Draco replied teasingly.

"I think I've adjusted quite fine," Harry retorted.

The impatience was amusing for Draco who had been chastised earlier for not wanting to take it slow. He did not, however, believe that Harry was near ready enough to take him and decided to call his bluff.

"If you say so."

As he removed his fingers from Harry and smirked at the long hiss that followed, Draco snatched up the forsaken condom near his left knee. It had been some time since he had bothered with a rubber and thanked Merlin that he had an excellent memory. Otherwise, it would have proven to be a rather embarrassing moment. Rolling the condom over his cock, Draco had to slow down his hands, getting too excited at the sudden attention.

Draco never took his eyes off Harry's as he lined himself up with his entrance. Experience told him that there was no way a virgin like Harry, who had likely never practiced stretching himself, would be ready to take something the size of Draco. He was, after all, known more for his girth than his length.

"Are you sure, Potter?"

He spoke it like a challenge because he knew there would be no way the Gryffindor could refuse.

"Get on with it," he growled back.

A string of curses mixed with hisses filled Draco's ears. That and the sudden vice around his cock made him relinquish a heady groan. Bracing himself on his hands, Draco pushed himself a little further inside of Harry, who contracted around him. The brunet's legs were draped over Draco's thighs and when he looked between them, he got a great view of Harry's leaking erection.

When Draco stole a peak at Harry's face, he couldn't help but slide further in. Harry's face was completely contorted, pleasure and pain battling back and forth. He didn't even realize yet that Draco was only half of the way inside him. Sweat collected along Harry's brow and threatened to trickle down into Harry's squinted eyes.

"Look at me," Draco commanded softly.

One of his hands reached up to cup Harry's flaming hot face. When Harry revealed his sparkling green eyes, Draco thrust his remaining length in. The consequent whimper assaulted Draco's willpower. Harry had a heartbeat to adjust the invasion before Draco thrust his hips against him. A wave of unintelligible sounds erupted from Harry's lips. His hands shot out and gripped Draco's upper arms fiercely, matching the look in his blazing eyes.

"Slow," Harry moaned out, elongating the word.

Draco had found, with record time, the spot inside of Harry that sent the brunet's eyes rolling back into his head and caused his body to arch like a bow.

"Are you sure?" Draco murmured against his lover's neck.

"It's too much."

"You said you were ready."

Out of sympathy, Draco eased his movements and gently rocked against him, making sure he slid against Harry's prostate. He kissed along Harry's shoulder before drawing back to watch the Gryffindor's face.

"You knew I was lying."

Draco's response was a wicked grin and a sharp thrust that made Harry's jaw slack. As his pace quickened, one of Draco's hands caressed the skin up to Harry's throat. His fingers wrapped gently around the Gryffindor's throat and applied a slight amount of pressure.

"You know, Harry, I had the urge to throttle you when you laughed at me earlier," Draco purred.

It was truly priceless to see the look of utter surprise on his face and then the drooping of his eyelids in arousal after Draco pressed more firmly against Harry's throat.

"Because no one laughs at me and gets away with it."

Their conversation was quickly replaced with grunts and moans. There was little Draco could do to reign in his passion and his overwhelming desire to claim Harry roughly. His lover had no qualms. The Slytherin set a pace that had sweat collecting at his temples and lower back where Harry's ankles crossed. Any pain that Harry had felt was overcome with an intense pleasure that festered deep inside of him, threatening to burst. He desperately wanted to release the tension in his body and gave little warning before he did. Panting heavily and undulating beneath Draco, Harry came with a loud shot. The spasms around his cock had Draco headed in the same direction. His eyes were glued to the sticky substance and Harry's still hard cock between them.

Normally, he tried to keep himself quiet, but after his lover's moans and final shout, he knew there was little point in masking what they were doing. His head buried in the crook of Harry's shoulder, feeling the vibrations of Harry's moans in his throat. Draco's hand was loose around the brunet's neck until it briefly tightened when Draco came. His orgasm came in waves, seemingly never ending. Harry held him tightly against him as he shuttered and groaned.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling of Harry's cooling semen and the condom that had prolonged the performance – in Draco's opinion – Draco felt utterly at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.


	13. The Very Public Display of Affection

**Disclaimer:** None of it is mine. I just like to play with them.

**Rating:** Sexually un-stimulating.

**A/N:** It's a bit ridiculous, but whatever. Also, next chapter will be the last :(

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: The Very Public Display of Attention**

Like most dinners, the Great Hall was immersed in conversations from gossip to homework between friends. The distractions were numerous, but the friends of both Draco and Harry focused on the budding relationship than whoever Lavender dated that week. The familiar scrutiny made it easier for Harry to ignore Hermione's insufferable looks. Annoyance quickly flooded Harry who simply wanted to devour his food in peace.

"The food isn't going anywhere, Harry. Slow down," Hermione ordered, her brow furrowed.

"I'm hungry," he replied through a mouthful of food.

Some of his mashed potatoes landed in Hermione's hair. While she picked the offending morsel out of her recently tamed mane, Harry continued to wolf down his meal. He even held his fork with a fist. Nearly twenty four hours had past since he ate, having spent most of the day in Draco's room. Glancing across the Hall, Harry found Draco bent over his plate, clearly as ravenous as he was.

"I didn't realize that Draco was such a _talker_, Harry. Clearly it's left you starved."

"Hermione, I don't like your tone," Ron interjected, looking mildly ill. "Drop the implication or I'll puke up this Shepherd's pie right now."

"Don't. It's good," Harry commented, his mouth still full of food.

"Did you two accomplish _anything_?"

"Loads."

"So you've settled everything?"

There was a tinge of happiness and hope in her voice that Harry felt endearing. He, however, could not resist a cheeky reply.

"We've settled that Draco is a top."

"Hermione, Harry, stop. I _will_ vomit," Ron piped up. "No offense mate, but I can't bear the thought of you and…that ferret. It's unnatural and not because you're two guys or anything. I'm fine with that. Really. Have you forgotten that you're sworn enemies? Literally! Remember second year? You swore it. You can't revoke those kinds of things."

"I was twelve, Ron, and still a virgin."

"You still can't…you're not a virgin?"

Harry didn't have to look at Ron to see the bewilderment plastered across his face. Instead, he shook his head and took another forkful of broccoli.

"We agreed that whoever lost theirs first would tell the other all about it."

"Well, it just happened about an hour ago. You guys haven't given me much chance to talk," Harry said quietly.

Ron blanched and Hermione grinned madly as a blush tinged her cheeks. For the first time that evening, she sat quietly and ate her meal, leaving her two friends to themselves.

"Wait…" Ron paused and glanced across the Great Hall, his eyes resting on the finally on Draco, who still inhaled his meal. "You lost your virginity to Malfoy?"

A slight flush colored his cheeks. He took another bite to occupy himself as Ron tried to handle the information. It looked as if the process hurt his brain for his face contorted with the effort.

"And let me get this straight, you _bottomed_ for Malfoy?"

"Ronald, I suggest you lower your voice so the whole castle doesn't hear you," Hermione hissed. "It is hardly anyone else's business."

"Like hell it is," Ron spat back, his temper starting to flare. He turned back to Harry and continued. "The only way to make sex with Malfoy at all redeeming is if _you_ were to fuck _him_."

"I quite liked it," Harry murmured.

"That's even worse!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione glanced around them, wondering who exactly was listening to the conversation as it unfolded. It would no doubt turn into one of Ron's regular blow-ups in which Dumbledore would have to intervene to quell the disturbance. Even though everyone enjoyed the entertainment, it was tiresome. Harry suffered enough without additional publicity.

"Zip it!" she ordered tersely, giving a pointed glance in the direction of the front of the Hall.

"I will _not_ 'zip it,' Hermione! This is ridiculous! I just started to accept Harry and the ferret and now Harry hurls this at me? He may as well be shagging a Hufflepuff!"

That caught the attention of a few Hufflepuffs who were the table closest to Gryffindor's. The Hufflepuffs students rarely bothered with fights. Only so much slander could be taken. Every so often, their honor had to be defended. Consequently, they shot Ron glares before starting on him.

"And what's wrong with shagging a Hufflepuff?" piped up Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Great," Harry muttered.

"You'd have better luck getting off with the Whomping Willow," Seamus chimed in.

And that was the beginning of the greatest dinner argument at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. The two tables traded insults with one another, becoming more and more colorful. It didn't take long before Ravenclaw joined in after several jibes were directed at them. Slytherin sat back and watched with dark fascination as the students from the other Houses quarreled with one another. The older students mainly participated, given that the first years had little clue about what it was really like to shag a Hufflepuff.

The noise ascended as more students jumped in. Rolling his eyes, Harry slumped his shoulders, making himself as small as possible. He wanted no association with any of this.

Hermione dreaded Dumbledore's intervention, but when she looked to the long table where the teachers sat, it appeared empty. Frowning, she glanced about the Hall, wondering where they could have gone. In the far corner of the Hall, behind the teachers' table, Hermione caught the tail end of a cloak disappearing through a door that she remembered seeing Mad-Eye Moody use in fourth year. The professors had abandoned the students and rightfully so. It was time they dealt with their problems amongst themselves.

"Stop arguing. This is ridiculous," commanded Hermione, grabbing Ron by his upper arm and dragging him from the table.

"I'm not finished yet!"

"Look what you've started."

They stood watching the Houses verbally attack one another and it was only a miracle that physical violence had not started. With the sudden inclusion of Slytherin, however, it appeared that such a threat was imminent.

"We've got to stop this. The professors left us."

"I'm not stopping a good argument like this."

"Harry, you need to help us!"

During this time, Harry had chosen to stay completely silent as he finished his meal. There was no need for him to take any part in the conversations around him since he couldn't really talk without being hypocritical. If being a bottom for Malfoy was almost worse than shagging a Hufflepuff, than Harry could not argue with that. He had achieved the worst apparently, according to Ron.

"I'm not doing anything of the sort."

"But Harry, look at everyone! This is getting out of hand. Even Ravenclaws are fighting with Hufflepuffs! This is threatening inter-House unity! Think of the ghastly repercussions of this!"

To say that Hermione was hysterical would have likely been an understatement. There were too many conflicting emotions marring her face for Ron to count and he had indeed stopped at six because there were several he could not name.

"What do you expect me to do?"

"Oy!" Ron shouted.

The clamor seemed to increase with Ron's shouts, which escalated further when a Slytherin shoved a Ravenclaw. His attempt at getting everyone's attention was utterly futile.

"Harry, you can get everyone's attention," persuaded Hermione. "They'll listen to you."

Before Harry could do anything about it, Ron and Hermione were pulling him out of his seat and pushing him to the dais where Dumbledore frequently stood. He past the length of the Gryffindor table and on his way saw Luna being attacked by Hannah Abbott, Neville hiding underneath the table with his wand out, and Colin Creevey snapping photos of the event. Harry shook his head in disbelief and walked on his own, knowing that someone had to do something.

Standing on the dais, Harry witnessed the entirety of the chaos. No one was sitting, save for the first years and Neville who hid underneath the tables. Several students had attempted to flee and discovered that the doors to the Hall were sealed. No doubt Dumbledore's doing. Hermione attempted to prevent Ron from going at Justin Finch-Fletchley and would have got an eyeful of the Hufflepuff's fist had Ron not punched him in the gut.

No one seemed to notice where Harry stood except for Draco who was half of the way to the Gryffindor table, searching for Harry. Upon seeing his boyfriend looking helpless at the crowd, Draco changed directions, pushing past several students, who in turn tried to fight him. Finally, Draco made it to the dais and sighed with relief.

"Weasley's an idiot," Draco announced, standing with his shoulder brushing against Harry's as he surveyed the Hall.

"He was only upset that I bottomed for Draco Malfoy, which is apparently almost as bad as shagging a Hufflepuff."

"I don't think anything is almost worse than shagging a Hufflepuff," joked Draco.

"You would know," Harry replied teasingly, though he was somewhat curious to know the answer.

"Terribly boring lot, really," Draco responded vaguely, casting a side glance at his boyfriend.

Harry turned to look at him with raised eyebrows and his disappointment poorly masked.

"I'm only kidding, Harry. I would _never_ fuck a Hufflepuff."

Silence past between them despite the uproar of the Hall where students ceaselessly fought and squabbled about various things. More students surrounded the doors, terrified that they could not escape. The scene was all too ridiculous to imagine, but Ron had somehow managed to strike a very sensitive cord that most of the students of Hogwarts could relate to in some fashion.

"So what are we going to do about this?" Harry wondered.

"How about we promote that inter-House unity nonsense McGonagall was going on about a while ago?"

"And how do we do that?"

Draco grabbed Harry's hand – pulled him in so their bodies collided. Harry's green eyes were wild with anticipation and anxiety. Harry's eyes fluttered shut when Draco's soft, plump lips caressed his mouth open. The muscles of Harry's body relaxed against Draco, who wrapped his arm around Harry's waist to keep him standing. Cupping the side of Harry's face, Draco took the kiss deeper, exploring Harry's mouth with his tongue.

The effect was almost immediate. Pockets of silence spread throughout the room as students took notice of the display at the head of the tables. Draco sensed the fear that shot through Harry and gripped him tight. They were doing this. Harry couldn't run this time.


End file.
